


I Caught Fire

by KyloTrashForever



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 2000s, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Birthday Fluff, Christmas Smut, Drunken Kissing, Emo, Emo Ben Solo, Emo Rey, Emo culture, Eventual Smut, F/M, Halloween Costumes, Heavy Angst, High School, Hot Topic, Marijuana, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Notes In Locker, Pierced Ben Solo, Secret Admirer, Set In 2007, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Teen Angst, Teen Romance, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Warped Tour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-06-12 20:30:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19582582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyloTrashForever/pseuds/KyloTrashForever
Summary: Rey meets a boy at Warped Tour whoshouldn’tbe perfect for her— but a shared smoke and a stolen kiss leaves her waiting for a call that never comes.When she sees him again for the first time at her new school, she is shocked—not just because she thought she’d never see him again, but because he clearly hates her. And the worst part is… she doesn’t even know why.An emo tribute to the angsty teen in all of us.





	1. What Are Strangers For?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ReyloOfTroy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReyloOfTroy/gifts).



> So... I started this Monday, and then I did nothing else until I finished... today. 😂 Those tags are real, y’all. This is the angstiest thing I’ve ever written, but I promise there’s an HEA. ❤️
> 
> Also, it’s DONE, so expect quick updates. 
> 
> Gifted to the amazingly sweet ReyloOfTroy! Thank you for this incredible prompt that consumed me this week. I hope you like it! ❤️
> 
> Special thanks to Jenfysnest, DeathDama, and OF COURSE my wife, ohwise1ne, for validating me and holding my hand this week. You ladies are the best. ❤️
> 
> [I Caught Fire Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/user/1288719735/playlist/766V4LyaZ6RYjTI0y1FriZ?si=if1B5VBmRFOPQ0lBPnkpZw)

_Fuck,_ it’s hot. Even for August.

You’d think after the sun went down it might cool off a little, but Rey feels her hair clinging to her temples and a steady line of sweat creeping down her spine.

Cute. Real cute.

She’s been too afraid to look in a mirror— she just _knows_ she more than likely looks like some sort of homeless raccoon. There’s absolutely no way her eyeliner hasn’t smudged all to hell by now.

But it’s fine, because she’s been waiting for this all day.

Finn and Poe have wandered off to the other stage across the way, but she doesn’t mind being alone. She’s sort of used to it anyway.

She fights the constant shove of bodies, trying to hold onto this spot she’s saved for the last half hour. She can see the entire stage from here, and she isn’t letting some drunk asshole shove her out of the way.

As if summoned, a heavy body collides into her back, jostling her and nearly knocking her over. She scowls as she moves to wheel around, ready to tell this fucker off. “Can you fucking watch where you’re—”

She trails off, forgetting what she was going to say. She actually has to crane her neck just to look up at him. He’s looking down at her with a disgruntled expression— almost as if it had been _her_ that had nearly knocked _him_ over.

He pushes his sweat-drenched hair from his eyes, accentuating ears that are definitely too large for his face. Still, the flash of black gauges there are interesting. She watches as he takes a swig from a silver flask that she’s not even sure how he snuck in here. He swallows down whatever’s inside, wincing only a little before cocking an eyebrow. “Might wanna watch where you’re going, or you’re gonna get run over.”

She scowls. “Dude, you’re the one who bumped into me.”

He frowns then, and she’s a little distracted by the glint of a spider bite piercing just under his lip. “Well. Maybe don’t be so small then.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah. Thanks for the advice.”

She turns back to face the stage, but she can _feel_ him looming just behind her. She tries her best to ignore his presence, but it becomes impossible when he pushes someone out of the way to stand beside her.

“Why are you alone?”

“I’m not alone.”

He cocks his head. “You’re not alone.”

She nods, not looking at him. “Nope.”

He just continues to stand there. She sneaks a glance to the side, eyeing the dark purple graphics of his black t-shirt with _Escape The Fate_ scripted over the top. He’s not really looking at her now, peering out at the stage and squinting, so she allows her gaze to brush down his long legs—crammed into black jeans that are ripped at the knee and nearly too tight for him, ending in a pair of shit-kicker black boots.

Not much for color, this one, but she supposes she doesn’t have much room to talk.

He’s still not looking at her when she glances back up, but he _does_ seem to be fixated on the black fishnets that bleed out from her acid washed shorts. He blinks slow, like he’s really concentrating, then makes some sort of _hmph_ sound as he finds her face.

“So where are your friends?”

“Have you made it, like, your personal mission to chaperone me?”

He shrugs. “Maybe. What’s your name?”

“Rey.”

He points at his chest. “Ben.”

“Yeah,” she tosses back flippantly. “Cool.”

“So, your friends?”

“They’re over at the Paramore stage.”

He grimaces. “Lame.”

“Um, hardly,” she snorts.

“Then why aren’t you over there?”

“Because I’d rather be here.”

He seems to consider this. “Okay. Fine. You twisted my arm. I’ll hang.”

“I did _not_ ask you to hang.”

“You didn’t _not_ ask me to hang.”

She cocks an eyebrow. “Are you high?”

“Yeah.” He gives a slow nod, not catching that she’d been joking. “A little.”

Great. The last thing she needs is to babysit some big idiot tossed off his ass. “Look I’m seriously f—”

“So who’s playing?”

He’s staring at her with his brows turned down, and she can tell she’s not going to be able to shake him. She sighs, pointing to her bleached-out _The Used_ t-shirt.

He nods appreciatively. “Sweet. Better than Paramore.” He uncaps the lid from his flask, moving to take a drink but pausing as he eyes her. He holds it out in offering. “Want some?”

“I’m good. Thanks.”

“Don’t drink?”

“Don’t drink from strangers.”

“I’m not a stranger. I’m Ben.”

“Telling me your name doesn’t make you any less of a stranger, guy.”

He shrugs, taking a drink for himself. “Suit yourself.”

She considers trying to squeeze away from him— but she _really_ likes this spot, and he’s so fucking big he could just push through after her anyway. She hopes something will catch his attention and he’ll move along.

“Your hair is cool.”

 _So much for that._ “Thanks.”

He surprises her by lifting one of the blue strands that peek out from underneath the chestnut top layer. “Red would be cooler.”

“Good to know.”

“Where are _your_ friends?”

“Hm?” He drops the piece of hair he’d been studying intently as he gives this some thought. “Oh. Right. I don’t know. Somewhere.”

“Shouldn’t you go find them?”

He gives her a concerned look. “If I leave you, we’ll both be alone.”

“Okay, but you’re _not_ alone _._ You’ve got friends. Somewhere.” It’s like talking to a toddler. Guy really should have cut back an hour ago.

“Well, neither are you. Now that I’m here.”

He’s smiling like he’s just solved all her problems. She wants to be irritated, but he looks so damned proud of himself it’s actually kind of cute.

She’s opening her mouth to speak again when the crowd erupts into a chorus of cheers, and she forgets Stoner Ben for a moment because she’s been waiting _all day_ to see The Used play.

Bert hypes the crowd as the band settles into place, and it isn’t long before the opening notes of _I Caught Fire_ sound from the guitar, and Rey can’t help but squeal.

A couple of guys push in front of her then. She makes a face at their backs as she tries to move around them, but the crowd is so thick now she’s sort of trapped, and these fuckers are blocking a good portion of the stage.

“ _Motherfucker.”_

She feels a tap at her shoulder, remembering her new friend as he shouts, “Can you see?”

She shakes her head, making a face as she yells back, “No!”

Everything that comes next happens so fast she doesn’t even have time to protest, watching as he pushes behind her and drops low before his head suddenly just _shoves_ between her knees and then she’s just _rising_ because this asshole is putting her on his _shoulders._

She beats at his back a little, trying not to fall. “Put me down!”

His hands tighten over the tops of her thighs just above her knee, and she falls silent as she’s momentarily distracted by how long his fingers are. She shakes her head as she slaps at his back again, but he just pats the side of her leg and points to the stage and _damnit_ — she _can_ see every little thing from this angle.

The crowd starts in on the chorus— a collective of _In your eyes, I lost my place—_ and Rey can’t help but join in. She’s still not sure about Stoner Ben, but she’s content to take advantage of his freakishly long legs.

Just for a little bit.

* * *

She isn’t entirely sure how she ended up hanging out with Stoner Ben. She can still hear Hayley Williams blaring out over the crowd across the field— and somehow after The Used had packed up she’d just… lingered.

It helps that he seems a little more sober.

It doesn’t help that he seems a lot more grumpy.

“Fuck,” he grumbles. “I’m out.” He shakes the empty flask before tucking it in his pocket. He scrubs a hand down his face as he settles at the base of a tree, eyeing her before she takes a seat across from him. “So what’s your deal, anyway?”

“I don’t have a deal.”

“You a junior?”

She shakes her head. “A senior this year.”

“Too small to be a senior.”

“Maybe you’re just too big.”

He grins as he lets his head rest against the bark of the tree, closing his eyes. “That’s what she said.”

“Hilarious.”

He’s still grinning as he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a dented altoid can and dropping it in his lap. She’s not entirely surprised when he pops open the lid to reveal a stash of paper, squinting in the dim light of the stage from across the way as he starts to roll another joint.

She laughs a little as he curses under his breath. “Do you need help with that?”

He raises an eyebrow, scoffing at her. “Yeah, no. I’m good.”

But he’s still struggling, still a little buzzed, she thinks. She reaches over and takes the tin from him, ignoring his protests as she sits it in her own lap and rolls up the joint with an ease she’d almost forgotten. He watches with wide eyes as she licks at the paper, rolling it up for him before she hands it back not a minute later— taking it from her gingerly and trying, she thinks, not to look impressed.

She points to the tin resting again in his lap. “Do you do that a lot?”

“I mean, sometimes.” He laughs a little at this as he digs out a lighter, putting the joint between his lips and lighting the end. The chipped black paint at his fingernails is stark against the white paper, and she watches as he takes a drag, blowing out the smoke slowly. “Trust me, I’m nicer when I smoke.”

“Where do you get it?”

“Steal it from my dad, mostly. But it’s easy to get it if you know the right people when he’s low.”

She cocks her head. “And he doesn’t notice?”

“He’d have to be around more to notice. I see him like, four times a year. Seeing his family would really cramp his style.”

She isn’t sure why she feels a squeezing in her chest. “What about your mom?”

“Ah, my alcohol supply,” he laughs scornfully. “All she cares about is her country club and her rich friends. As long as I’m not in jail or getting someone pregnant she can’t be bothered.”

“Wow, that’s… fucking terrible.”

“Hence, this.” He chuckles as he takes another hit. “So I’m guessing you smoke?”

She shrugs. “I used to.”

“You used to.” He blows a stream of smoke out before he chuckles. “You sound like an old pro. What are you, seventeen?”

She rolls her eyes. “Eighteen in December. Christmas Eve.”

“No shit? That sucks. I bet your parents do one of those shitty combined holiday things, huh.”

“Um, not really. No.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Wow. They must be cool.”

“I, uh, wouldn’t know.” He gives her a confused look, and she stares across the field towards the lighted stage there. “I haven’t seen them since I was four.”

When she looks back at him, his brow is furrowed—not pity, like she’s used to, but something. “What happened?”

She picks at a bit of grass under her Doc Martens. “They uh, left me at a Target.”

“The fuck?”

She nods. “Yep. Bounced around foster homes since then.”

“That’s… fuck.” He shakes his head before he holds out the joint. “I think you need this more than me.”

“No, it’s fine, I—”

He urges her with his hand. “Seriously. I insist.”

She wraps her fingers around it, bringing it to her lips and inhaling as that familiar heat floods her throat and her lungs. It’s been at least a year since she’s done this— but she closes her eyes as it all comes back to her.

“God,” she sighs. “I missed that.”

“Why’d you quit?”

“My last foster dude was a prick. Caught me smoking out of the bathroom window and then withheld my meals for a week. Sort of lost the urge after that I guess.”

“What the _fuck.”_ Ben’s eyes are hard now. “You still there?”

“Na.” She shakes her head. “Little old lady I stay with now is a saint. I actually live there with another kid I grew up with. He got moved out here after middle school, but we kept in touch. When she had another spot open up he convinced her to take me in. It’s sort of great.”

“Good.” He still looks a little angry, and she hands the joint back in offering as he takes it for another hit. “Fucking dick.”

“Agreed,” she laughs. She blinks a little as she feels that floating feeling settle inside, wrapping her arms around her knees to rest her chin there. “Thanks for that.”

“What are strangers for?”

She grins, keeping her eyes closed. “This has actually been a great day.”

“The lineup was pretty fucking good. I caught Avenged Sevenfold, Escape the Fate, _and_ As I Lay Dying— so I’d call it a win.”

“Plus, The Used,” she quips seriously, peeking open one eye and enjoying the grin on his face.

“Yeah, can’t forget them.”

She feels a bit of an urge to show off when he passes back to her, and she takes another slow drag, holding the smoke in her cheeks for a second before opening her mouth slowly to let it drift out. She inhales deep through her nose as it seeps into the air— pulling it into her nostrils and only coughing a little after.

“Shit, I’m rusty.”

Ben’s sort of staring at her with his mouth parted, and she kind of likes that dazed look on his face. She’s beaming as she passes it back.

“You gotta teach me how to do that.”

“Rain check,” she laughs. “I can barely even do it anymore.”

He’s staring at the joint with a knitted brow, and she has no doubt he’s going to go home and get high as fuck trying to teach himself how to do it. It makes her a little giddy— or maybe that’s just the weed.

She watches as he pulls from the end, closing his eyes. When he first ran her over, she thought his features were all a little too big for his face— but she sort of finds she likes his odd angles and his big ears. But again, it could just be the weed.

He pulls the rolled paper away from his mouth, narrowing his eyes at it. “Shit. Almost gone. That was the last I brought with me too.”

He holds it out to her, but she waves her hand in protest. “You take it. It’s yours.”

“But it’s your turn.”

“It’s your shit, Ben,” she laughs. “Just finish it.”

He squints back at it between his fingers, then his eyebrows raise as if an idea strikes him. “We could share.”

“What?”

He holds out a hand. “Come here.”

She stares at his outstretched palm, his fingers wiggling a little as he silently urges her to take it. She places her hand in his slowly, his fingers closing over hers as he tugs her closer— Rey practically falling into his lap as he wraps an arm around her waist.

He pulls at the end of the joint, and Rey watches as the little glowing end gets closer and closer to his fingers, his eyes a little hooded. Even with the heaviness creeping into her limbs, she feels a tingling in her chest— warmth creeping inside as he flicks the discarded end onto the ground and cradles her nape.

He releases the smoke, and it’s like instinct, the way she inhales it only inches from his mouth. Her eyes flutter a little as she breathes it in— his face so close she can feel the brush of his nose against hers.

She holds it for a second before she lets it skirt back over her lips, and Ben is staring there— just studying the shape of her mouth before flicking his gaze back to her eyes and just _looking_ at her and it’s a little hard to breathe but he’s _leaning_ now and—

His lips are warm like smoke.

It’s just a brush at first— a slow, testing gesture that is almost chaste, but she feels the tip of his tongue trace her bottom lip and then she’s _opening_ to let it sweep inside and his mouth _tastes_ like smoke too.

His hand traces down her spine, pressing into it to pull her a little closer even as he makes some little sound in his throat that makes her toes curl in her boots.

She feels a large hand smooth over her fishnets, and she doesn’t _mean_ to fist his hair but it’s very _soft_ now that it’s dried a little and she’s a little _dizzy_ and she—

The chirping of her cell phone brings her back to reality.

She goes still, hearing the little beeping of her text tone sounding in her back pocket as her mouth just sort of rests against Ben’s awkwardly.

She pulls away in a bit of a daze, blinking slowly as he licks at his lower lip just before trying to lean back in.

“What time is it?”

He blinks back at her. “What?”

She remembers then. “Shit. _Shit.”_ She scrambles a little as she pulls her phone from her pocket, checking the front of her battered Razr and scowling. “I have to go.”

“What? No.” His words are a little slurred. “Stay.”

Impulsively, she leans in again to press another heavy kiss against his mouth, following it with a more chaste one. “Curfew. I have to go.”

“Your number,” he murmurs. “Can I—?”

“Yeah, you can text me.”

He manages to grapple his phone from his pocket, pulling out his Blackberry and listening as she rattles it off. He taps out the number, nodding, and as she turns to leave he grabs for her hand.

She turns back, taking in the quiet little smile at his mouth. “Thanks, Rey.”

She grins back. “Talk to you soon, Ben.”

She doesn’t turn back as she briskly walks back across the field in search of Poe and Finn, even if a part of her wants to. She finds them waiting by Poe’s Focus— throwing up their arms in question as they start to slide into the car.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

She ducks into the backseat, shrugging as she reaches for the seatbelt. “Nowhere.”

Finn turns in his seat to quirk an eyebrow. “You’re lying.”

“Maybe.” She gives another shrug. “Guess you’ll never know, Dad.”

“I would just like to say,” Poe cuts in. “If we ever adopt a kid, I do _not_ want it to be like Rey.”

She leans up to slap his arm. “You two would be _lucky_ to have a kid like me.”

“Of course we would, babe,” Finn assures her.

“You spoil her,” Poe sighs. “This isn’t healthy for her development.”

“Can you just _drive_ before we all get bitched out by Maz?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles.

Poe and Finn chat about the different bands they saw that day, but Rey is quiet. Lost in her own little world. Every so often, she touches her fingertips to her lips with a quiet little smile.

She falls asleep that night checking her phone, hoping that he doesn’t take too long.

* * *

She should be used to it by now. Being the new kid. Trying to fit in.

But it’s not something you ever really get used to.

There are basic parts that she’s grown accustomed to— the furtive glances, the whispers, the assessing stares— this is more or less the same at every school in the beginning.

But that feeling of being the only person in a crowded room. Being actually _alone—_ that’s a feeling you never really get over.

Finn waves her over to the table— and she blissfully slumps into the seat as she kicks up her faded converse into the opposite chair.

“Rough day, dear?”

“Fucking nightmare. I’m pretty sure Calculus is made up.”

Finn frowns. “Make any friends, at least?”

“Nope.” She shakes her head. “Although I’m pretty sure I heard some blonde chick talking shit about my hair.”

“Which class?”

“AP Government. Little shorter than me. Super cute, in a Regina George kind of way.”

“Braids?”

She steals a fry off his tray. “Yep.”

“Ah, Kaydel. She’s… not so bad? I know that’s a stereotypical thing to say, but she isn’t.”

“Sure. You think _everyone_ is not so bad.”

He grins. “Worked with you.”

“Except we both know it’s a lie. I _am_ that bad.”

“You just think being a dick makes you look tough,” Finn laughs. “But unfortunately I know you’re just a little kitten inside.”

“Mhm.” She’s staring down at her phone, frowning at an empty inbox and idly toying with the plastic black choker stretched around her neck. “Sure.”

“It’s been three weeks, Rey.”

“Hm?” She flips her phone closed as she looks up at him. “I wasn’t even checking.”

“Sure you weren’t.” He rolls his eyes. “I still can’t believe you got high and made out with a stranger.”

Now _she’s_ rolling her eyes. She wishes she’d never cracked and told him. She can’t help but think of _him_ then— and her lips turn up in a grin beyond her control. “He’s not a stranger if I know his name.”

Finn blows out a breath. “Weirdo.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I know.”

“Maybe he goes to Salem.”

“Norfolk is twenty minutes from Virginia Beach, Finn.”

He shrugs. “You never know.”

“It doesn’t matter.” She frowns petulantly. “If he’d wanted to talk, he’d have texted me.”

“I’m sorry,” Finn says quietly. “Boys are fucks.”

“But not Poe, right?”

She doesn’t even begrudge Finn his embarrassing smile. “Yeah, but not Poe.”

She notices by the clock on the wall that lunch is nearly over, and she pushes away from the table to stand as Finn follows suit, grabbing his tray. “Too bad he doesn’t go here.”

“Ocean Lakes isn’t far,” Finn points out, trailing after her to dump his tray and following her out the cafeteria doors. “We’ll meet up after school today and get some _Rey survived her first day_ ice cream.”

“You’re an angel.”

Finn grins smugly. “I know.” Her weariness at the thought of suffering through another half of a day must show on her face, because Finn pulls her in for a hug. “Hey. It’s gonna be fine, I promise. This time is different. I’m here this time. You’re not alone.”

_Well, neither are you. Now that I’m here._

Cue melancholy.

“Thanks, Finn.”

She feels his lips at her hair, and she tightens her arms around him. She _is_ grateful that they’re together again. Even if she has to share him with his boyfriend. High school has been _shit_ without Finn.

He pulls away to pat her on her shoulder, turning off in the other direction as she steels herself for more new people that most likely won’t like her.

Perfect.

She turns on her heel to go— stopping in her tracks when she spots a face she _does_ recognize.

Her eyes rake over the deathbat stretched across his chest— the glinting spider bite piercing that is much more noticeable in the daylight— settling on eyes she hadn’t even noticed were a caramelized amber the first time she’d met him.

His hair is a mess— like he just rolls out of bed that way— and one hand is tense on the strap of his plain black backpack as he just stares at her.

She wants to ask why he never texted her, but for some reason her tongue isn’t working.

She swallows, searching for her voice and opening her mouth to speak. “Hey, I didn’t think I’d—”

But he doesn’t even let her finish.

His expression turns hard, _angry_ even— and then his checkered vans stomp across the concrete and his shoulder brushes against hers as he marches straight past her.

Without saying a single word.

She tries to make sense of it, wondering if maybe he doesn’t remember— he’d been pretty blazed after all, but that _look._

Like he couldn’t stand the sight of her.

The bell rings, and she’s late now. She turns back and watches his hulking figure disappear into the next building, still stung as to what she could have done to him. She guesses it doesn’t matter. She can’t chase after him and demand to know what his problem is.

Even if she wants to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t let this first chapter fool you. I mean what I said, and I don’t want to mislead you because I love you. This is gonna hurt for a bit, but if you can stick with me I SWEAR it will be worth it. ❤️ (Have I ever done you dirty?)


	2. Red Would Be Cooler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh I couldn’t resist using that graphics coding again. Indulge me.
> 
> (I’m going to add the note contents in the end notes for anyone who can’t see — there were only a few from Self-Inserted, but just in case! ❤️)

“Shit.”

She aggressively taps at the button on the machine, glaring at the bag of cookies stuck in the coil through the plastic divider. Well, there goes that.

A kick at the base jolts her, and then her cookies fall into the bin at the bottom. Rey looks down at a grinning girl a good six inches shorter than her, dark hair trimmed into a cute little pixie cut that’s longer on top and styled to some windswept look.

“There’s a trick to it,” the girl tells her.

“Thanks.” Rey reaches for her prize and pulls it out. “Damn thing ate my money three times last week.”

“You’re new, right?”

Rey nods. “Yeah. I just moved here over the summer.”

“Cool. I’m Rose, by the way. Rose Tico.”

“Rey. Rey Johnson.”

“Neat. I love your hair.” She leans in to toy with a strand, and it flickers a memory that makes Rey want to frown. She suppresses it as Rose gushes. “This color is fucking awesome.”

_Red would be cooler._

“Thanks,” Rey manages. “I _love_ your haircut. It’s so cool.”

Rose pats her artfully styled hair happily. “Thanks! It's cool to just run some wax through it and go in the mornings.”

“I bet.”

“I think we actually have AP English together. You want to walk with me?”

Rey tries not to let her giddiness show on her face. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be awesome.”

* * *

> **Finn: I have to do some shit in the library at lunch. Wanna come?**

Rey stares down at her phone as she floods out of the classroom with everyone else. It’s not like she’s got a lot of other options, and she’s just about to text back to let him know when she feels a hand at her arm.

“Want to sit with me at lunch?”

Rey is a little surprised at Rose’s friendliness. It’s definitely not something she's used to.

“Um, sure?”

Rose beams. “Awesome. It’ll just be my boyfriend and his friends. They’re kind of grumpy but they’re not so bad. They’ll love you, I promise. They’re into all that too.” She gestures at Rey’s AFI shirt, still smiling in a way that tells Rey she isn’t being catty.

“Okay,” Rey agrees. “Sounds great.”

She taps out another message to Finn instead.

> **Rey: A girl named Rose wants me to eat lunch with her.**

> **Finn: Oh, I know her. Sort of. We have Art together. She seems nice!! You should go.**

> **Rey: I am.**

> **Finn: You need a chick friend.**

> **Rey: Thanks, Dad.**

She stows her phone in her back pocket as she trails after Rose, listening to her chat away about her weekend. Rose is… very chatty it seems, but strangely Rey doesn’t seem to mind it. She’s just too damned nice not to like.

“So, anyway Armie— that’s my boyfriend,” she explains, “is _supposed_ to be getting me tickets to Maroon 5 for my birthday— do you like them?”

Rey makes a noncommittal gesture. “Yeah. Sure. They’re okay.”

“Oh my God, I’m _obsessed_ with the lead singer. He’s just so fucking _hot.”_

Rey vaguely thinks she knows who Rose is referring to— but it doesn’t matter really since she has already launched into another topic. Rey’s fine to listen anyway. It’s so rare anyone other than Finn actually _wants_ to talk to her.

They push through the doors of the cafeteria, waiting in line for their trays and only lingering for a minute before Rose spots whoever she’s looking for. Rey trails after her dutifully, hoping everyone at her table is as nice as she is.

She quickly finds out otherwise.

She hasn’t seen him since that first day of school last week. She isn’t sure if he just skipped out the rest of the week, or if he’s been actively avoiding her (it _is_ a fairly big school, after all). Either way— his massive frame kicked back in a cafeteria chair takes her by surprise.

He hasn’t noticed her yet, nodding along to something a very tall blonde is saying, snapping a black rubber bracelet at his wrist idly.

It’s the first time she’s ever really seen him in color— if his grey skinny jeans count as a color. Either way, it leaves her a little flustered, just staring at him like a creep as she bites her lip.

Rose tugs at her arm. “Come on. They won’t bite.”

Rose plops down by a redhead with hair longer than hers— grinning as he turns to kiss her for a moment before she breaks away to gesture at Rey. “Guys, this is my friend, Rey Johnson.”

She won’t look at him. She _can’t._

“This is my boyfriend, Armitage Hux, but call him Armie because, ew.”

The redhead gives her a grimace. “Hux is fine.”

Rose shrugs as she points to the blonde. “This is Gwen Phasma— don’t worry, she only _acts_ like a jerk.”

Gwen rolls her eyes before giving Rey a little wave. “Hey.”

Rey nods back, but Rose has already moved on, and there’s only one person left at this table, and Rey feels a little like she can’t breathe.

“And this is Ben. Ben Solo. Again, he’s not _actually_ a dick.”

She has to look at him. It’ll be weird if she doesn’t. But it still sort of hurts, the way he’d made her feel only to brush her off.

She doesn’t do this shit. She doesn’t _care._

She takes a deep breath, turning to him coolly. “Hey.”

He doesn’t reply. He just sits there, working his jaw tensely as he gives a curt nod. She tears her eyes away as she takes a seat across the table next to Rose.

Hux leans over his girlfriend. “So where are you from, Rey?”

“Oh. All over. I was in Richmond last year.”

“Are you a military brat?”

Rey can’t help but chuckle. “Some kind of brat.”

Gwen nods at Rey’s shirt. “You like AFI?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you see them this summer? They played at Warped in Norfolk.”

She has to look at him then. She can’t help it. She can _feel_ the way his eyes bore a hole in the side of her head. She flicks her eyes over to confirm her suspicions, and he’s not even trying to _hide_ his stare.

“Um, yeah,” Rey stammers. “I did. Me and my friends went.”

“We did too,” Hux chimes in.

“Yeah. Boys Like Girls was there,” Rose sighs. “But _this lot—”_ She hitches a thumb at the rest of the table. “—dragged me to a ton of screamo bands before that.”

“Which was your favorite?”

She won’t look at him. She _won’t._ “The Used.”

“Oh, we didn’t catch them,” Hux remarks. “But Ben, didn’t you say you caught that show?”

She holds her breath, turning towards him because she knows it will seem odd if she doesn’t. “Yeah. It was okay.”

She isn’t sure why she feels a sinking feeling in her stomach. It’s not a big _deal_ for fuck’s sake. So they kissed. They didn’t get engaged or anything. She can’t let this fucking guy make her feel like this.

“Yeah,” Rey says coolly. “It would have been great, but some asshole kept hanging around.”

Rose makes a face. “Really?”

“Couldn’t make him leave me alone.” She hates being bitter like this. She’s many things, but never _catty._ She’s just so damned _irritated_ by his attitude.

“That sucks,” Hux offers.

Rey nods, not looking at Ben again. “Yep.”

“Isn’t her hair cool?” Rose is toying with Rey’s hair again. “I’ve always wanted to put a color in mine. Remember when yours was pink that time, Gwen?”

Gwen shrugs. “Hairdresser fucked me. I wanted purple.”

Rose has already turned back to her. “It was hysterical. It took _forever_ to fix, and Gwen _hates_ pink.”

Rey eyes Gwen’s dark purple jeans and white t-shirt. Yeah, she could see it.

“The blue is much better than my bullshit,” Gwen offers.

Rey can’t help it. She doesn’t even _mean_ for it to slip out. “Red would be cooler.”

The scrape of his chair is immediate. Ben pushes from the table in a huff— grabbing his tray and stalking off without a backwards glance.

Rose frowns. “What’s his deal?”

“Who knows,” Gwen shrugs. “He’s been pissier than usual.”

Rey watches him go as something builds in her chest— something that is born from the sickly hurt that’s been plaguing her and morphs into something hot and angry. What the _fuck_ is his problem?

She pretends to check her phone as the others chat, then closes it with a little more force than necessary as she tucks it in her pocket. “Hey, Rose? My friend needs me in the library. Can I catch you later?”

“Oh my God, yeah! Here.” She pulls out a scrap of paper from her pocket, tearing off a corner and taking a pen Hux offers to write down her number. “Text me tonight, okay?”

Rey grins, genuinely grateful for this tiny girl who might be the nicest person she’s ever met outside of Finn. “I will.”

Rey tries to look casual as she deposits her tray in the bin, trying not to break into a run as she pushes through the cafeteria doors and lets her eyes scan the courtyard. She spots him underneath the pavilion across the way— legs stretched out on a bench with his back propped up against a pillar as he angrily stares down at his phone in his hands.

She stomps across the concrete with purpose— Ben only looking up when she’s two feet away, but by then she’s close enough to shove his legs from the bench forcefully and take a seat in front of him.

“Are we going to talk about your fucking attitude?”

He flicks his eyes up for only a moment before he settles them back on his phone. “Don’t know what you mean.”

“Really, Ben?”

She lets out a frustrated sound. “I don’t get you. The concert, and us—” She feels her neck get a little hot as she remembers the smoking and everything _else._ “—and then _nothing._ And then you just— I see you here and you’re— _fuck_ , Ben. Why are you acting like this?”

“I don’t wanna play this stupid game of yours, Rey.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? You’re the one being a prick. You really _are_ a dick when you’re not smoking.”

He gives her a hard look then. “Don’t you fucking sit there and tell _me_ what kind of person _I_ am. I don’t know if you’re just fucked up because you don’t have any parents or what, but—”

She shoots up, breathing hard as heat settles deep in her chest. “Fuck you, Ben.”

She notices just how hard his chest rises and falls then. He gives her a long look— almost like he wants to say something. Maybe even like he wants to _apologize—_ but his mouth just remains parted for a moment and he’s just _staring_ at her and—

His eyes dart behind her, his expression growing passive again as he moves to stand. “This was fun. Thanks for the talk. Feel free to just… not, next time.”

He stalks off in the other direction, and she just remains there, rooted to the spot and thinking about picking up something heavy to chuck at the back of his head.

Mother _fucker._

She doesn’t realize her name is being called until a hand touches her shoulder.

“Rey?”

She turns to find a confused-looking Finn. “What?”

“You okay? You look like you’re about to cry.”

“I’m—” _Fuck._ She takes a deep breath. “I’m fine.”

“Why were you talking to Ben Solo?”

She tries to keep her expression blank. “You know him?”

“I mean… I guess? I don’t think I’ve ever actually spoken to him. He’s sort of… a jerk. Doesn’t really talk to anyone except his friends, and even then he mostly just glares from what I’ve noticed.”

“Yeah.”

“So… what were you talking about?”

Rey blows out a breath. “That was Stoner Ben.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“And then he just blew you off?”

“Yep.”

Finn makes an indignant sound. “What the fuck! Did you confront him?”

She’s frowning down at the spot where he’d been sitting. “Yep.”

“Well, what did he say?”

She closes her eyes. _Don’t you fucking cry, Rey Johnson._ “Nothing good.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Rey. He’s a prick. Seriously, from what I’ve heard he isn’t nice to _anyone_. Don’t take it personally.”

“Easier said than done,” she mutters.

Finn wraps an arm around her shoulders. “I know, babe, but he isn’t worth getting upset over.”

“I’m not upset,” she huffs bitterly. “Fuck him.” Finn is still frowning, so she adds, “Seriously. It’s fine. I mean it’s a bummer, but I’ll be fine.”

Finn lets his hand drop to squeeze hers. “Want me to kick his ass?”

Rey bursts out laughing. “The last time you got into a fight was ninth grade, and you ended up with a black eye.”

“You should have seen the other guy.”

“I did, remember?”

He waves her off. “I have to get to class. You sure you’re okay?”

She gives what she thinks is a convincing nod. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

It’s a lie, but she’ll get over it. Probably.

She watches Finn leave, telling him she’ll meet him at her locker after school. She situates her backpack, taking a deep breath and stomping off in the same direction Ben had disappeared in to head towards her anatomy class.

She comforts herself with the knowledge that it’s unlikely she’ll have to see Ben again. The only place she’s run into him is lunch— and that’s easily avoidable, she thinks. If anything, he’ll probably avoid _her._

_Bastard._

She won’t have to see him. That’s something.

Right?

But it’s not.

Because when she steps inside her class, she finds out very quickly that Ben must _have_ skipped school for the remainder of last week.

Because he’s here.

In this class.

Sitting in the very back station and glaring down at his notebook as he doodles at the edge. She realizes she’s just standing there with her mouth hanging open, so she shakes off her temporary shock as she ducks her head and takes the only available seat only two stations away.

She doesn’t look back at him. Even if she wants to. Even if she _feels_ his eyes on the back of her head. She _won’t_ look.

The bell rings as the Mr. Ackbar starts to settle everyone down, and Rey keeps her eyes forward.

She _won’t_ look.

“Class, were going to start working on some simple labs to start this week— and I’m pleased to inform you that your station partners you’ve chosen today will be your lab partners for the remainder of the semester.”

There are a few groans and several mutters of relief. Rey gives what she hopes is a polite smile to the dark haired boy sitting next to her, and he returns it briefly before their teacher continues to drone on about their lab that day.

She doesn’t look back the entire class.

* * *

By the end of the day, Rey knows without a doubt anatomy will be her least favorite class.

Which sucks, because she’s kind of _good_ at it.

She’s still thinking about the class even hours later. It’s just so hard to concentrate with a broody dick sitting two stations away and assuredly _glaring_ at the back of her head. He bolted out of class the very _second_ the bell rang, and all she could think was _good riddance._

Her lab partner, Dopheld (or Doph, which he asked her to call him, thankfully) is nice, at least. She recognizes him from last week, and she finds herself glad she was railroaded into choosing his station. She could have really done a number on herself otherwise. They chatted about bands in their down time, and she could almost forget that Ben was sitting so close behind.

Almost.

She sighs as she opens her locker, and is confused when a little scrap of paper falls to the floor. She picks it up with a puzzled expression, turning it over and furrowing her brow.  


“Hey, you ready to— what’s that?” She turns to find Finn peeking over her shoulder. “Ooooh, a secret admirer?”

Rey frowns. “That seems unlikely.”

“Is it a poem?”

She shakes her head. “It’s Taking Back Sunday.”

“I wonder who stuck it in there?”

She can’t help that flutter of the possibility of _Ben_ inflating her lungs and filling up her chest— but then she remembers their fight in the courtyard and it bursts like a too-large balloon and withers into nothing.

_I don’t know if you’re just fucked up because you don’t have any parents or what but—_

Yeah. Definitely not Ben.

“I have no idea,” she shrugs. “How did they know what sort of music I like?”

She looks up to find Finn giving her an incredulous look. He points to her t-shirt. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Only a week and already getting love letters,” Finn sighs, pretending to wipe his eyes. “My little baby is growing up.”

She rolls her eyes. “Shut up.”

Finn laughs, shoving at her shoulder. “Hey, at least this will help you forget about that prick, Ben Solo.”

She tries to ignore the pang in her chest as she pockets the note. She hates that she still wishes there were even a _chance_ that this could be Ben.

But that look in his eyes hadn’t left any room for doubt.

For whatever reason, Ben Solo can’t stand her.

She hopes her melancholy doesn’t show on her face, slamming her locker door and tagging along after Finn towards the parking lot.

“Yeah,” she says quietly. “I’m sure it will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this won’t be the meanest thing Ben says, but I promise he thinks he’s justified. 
> 
> Dumb emo babies.
> 
> Note Lyric:
> 
> MakeDamnSure by Taking Back Sunday
> 
> I just wanna break you down so badly  
> Well I trip over everything you say  
> I just wanna break you down so badly  
> In the worst way


	3. Hotpants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know we’re supposed to hate Bazine (I have no idea why though?) but I sort of love mine. I want her to adopt me. 😍

“These are selling like fucking hotcakes.”

Rey looks up from the rack she’s restocking, noticing Bazine turning over the brightly colored _So Wrong, It’s Right_ album. Her face is less than impressed.

Rey pushes up to stand. “You don’t like All Time Low?”

“Eh.” Bazine shrugs, placing it back on the shelf. “They're okay, I guess.” She leans back on her elbows from behind the counter. “I’m still waiting for an album to knock me on my ass like _Decemberunderground_.”

“That came out last year,” Rey chuckles.

“I’ll never be over it. They still play the Miss Murder vid on Fuse sometimes. Davey in that coat, and that _lip ring.”_ Bazine gives a dramatic sigh. “ _Never_ be over it.”

“I caught them at Warped this summer. They were fucking great.”

“Biiitch.” Her mouth falls open, her perfectly lined black lipstick forming a little _o._ “Shut up. I didn’t get to go. Was it legit?”

“Fucking hot is what it was,” Rey grumbles. “But there was a sick lineup.”

“I’m so jealous,” she sighs. “Ah, to be young.”

Rey cocks an eyebrow. “Yes. The curse of being an old crone.”

Bazine grins, and Rey shakes her head. They _both_ know that Bazine is a knockout. Jet black hair that’s cut sharp just under her chin, skin tone that Rey would _kill_ for (what _is_ it with all of her freckles?), and cool as shit to boot. She has a penchant for black lipstick and rocks a septum piercing and when Rey showed up for her “interview” — she knew she was going to like her new manager right away.

She actually sort of loves her part time job— even if it’s only been a week. She practically lived in Hot Topic before this, anyway. Seemed fitting to hit them up for work.

“Hey. Twenty-seven is practically thirty which is practically forty.”

“Sound logic.” Rey rolls her eyes as she hangs up a t-shirt some asshole had just lain over the rack. “You barely look any older than me.”

Bazine blows her a kiss. “That’s what I was really after.” She stretches then as she pushes away from the counter. “I need a smoke.”

“Didn’t you just have one?”

“That’s been at least thirty minutes. Be quiet. I’m the manager.”

Rey laughs as she opens up a new box of gauges to stock. “Okay then.”

“I’ll be back in like ten. Just watch the store and don’t steal any shit. We have cameras now.”

“I’ll try my best.”

Bazine winks. “Good girl.”

She leaves out the back in search of the break room— leaving Rey alone at the front of the store as she keeps herself busy. There hasn’t been a customer for the last hour or so, a slow Tuesday night, so she’s a little surprised when the sensor dings as someone walks through the front.

“Hey,” she calls out. “Shout it you need any help.”

They don’t answer, and a peek over the shelf only reveals a grey beanie that just shows over the merch rack on the other side of the counter. The dude seems to be looking down at the new All Time Low albums, and she figures he’ll just need a quick checkout.

She sets the box of gauges on the ground— straightening her HIM shirt and pushing her hair out of her eyes. She sees him making his way to the counter just as she’s rounding behind it, and when she finally catches sight of him— her stomach drops.

She’s done pretty well these past couple of weeks— hasn’t thought about him more than a dozen times a day, has made sure to resist the urge to steal glances back at him during class— she’s been doing _so_ fucking well.

Does he have to look so fucking _good?_

She wants to say she _doesn’t_ let her eyes linger on the way his black Henley stretches across his chest. Wants to say that her mouth doesn’t go a little dry at the way his hair peeks out from under his beanie or the way he’s toying with the spider bite piercing with his teeth.

But she does. And she is.

For a minute they just stare at each other, Ben looking like he’s under some sort of curse. She’s starting to know how he feels.

She can’t take the silence anymore. “You gonna buy that or what?”

His brow knits as he frowns, tossing the CD on the counter.

“I didn’t think you’d be into them,” she remarks flippantly, refusing to let his silent treatment get to her. “Didn’t think they’d be cool enough.”

“Shows how much you know about me.”

She laughs scornfully. “Yeah. You’re right. I don’t know _anything_ about you.” She scans the album. “$16.37”

He hands her a twenty, clenching his jaw. “You’re right. You don’t.”

It shouldn’t hurt. She doesn’t know why it _does._ It was just a fucking _kiss._

She hands him his change, depositing it into his open palm and sucking in a breath when her fingers touch his skin. She lingers there, fingers just brushing against his palm as she stares at it, and it would almost be embarrassing except he _doesn’t pull away._

She could say something. She could ask him why he’s being this way. She knows there was something there, she _knows_ it— maybe if she just— maybe she could—

“Ben, I—”

He snatches his hand away, change gripped tight in his fist as he grabs for the CD. “Thanks.”

He turns on his heel, stalking out of the store without a backwards glance, and Rey hates the disappointment that floods her.

“You know him?”

She jumps at the sound of Bazine’s voice idling up behind her. “What?”

She nods at the door. “Hotpants.”

“I go to school with him. We aren’t friends or anything.”

Bazine leans over the counter to prop her chin on her fists. “You should be. Did you see his lip piercing? I’m so weak for that. If I was ten years younger…” She sighs, shaking her head. “You don’t think he was hot?”

Rey snorts. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“I’m just saying girl. You only get to be fresh-faced and tight-bodied once. Don’t waste it.”

Rey doesn’t particularly feel like getting into all the little details of why she and Ben Solo will _never_ be anything more than two polarized ends, so she just shrugs her shoulders and moves towards the back to busy herself with stocking.

She doesn’t want to think about Ben and his stupid hair and his stupid hands and his _stupid_ piercings that make her squirm.

She reaches into her pocket, retrieving the scrap she’d found in her locker earlier, just one of several someone placed inside over the last couple weeks.

She rubs her thumb over the crinkled paper, trying and failing for the dozenth time not to wish that it was _him._ She keeps catching herself stealing glances at lunch— the _only_ time really, and only when she happens to sit with Rose. Only for those spare moments where they share the same space before he finds a reason to skulk out with barely-checked aggression.

It’s only in those moments that she allows herself to pretend that it _could_ be him leaving them. That somewhere deep down he actually _does_ like her.

It’s a really stupid thing to do.

She has to stop doing it.

Maybe if the person who _is_ leaving them would grow a pair and just say something, she could finally push Ben out of her mind.

She crumples the paper to shove it back in her pocket, mentally chastising herself. Telling herself to fucking _get over it._

She just wishes she could.

Bazine turns the overhead speaker up— The Killers pouring through them, and Rey rolls her eyes at the irony of it.

_It started out with a kiss, how did it end up like this? It was only a kiss—_

Rey shakes her head.

 _Yeah,_ she thinks. _That’s about right._

* * *

“Okay, were going to start on the skeletal system today.” Mr. Ackbar turns from the whiteboard and gestures to the diagram projected there. “Now, here we have the—”

Doph leans in to whisper, “Did you forget your book?”

“Yeah,” she whispers back. “I was late and couldn’t make it back to my locker in time.”

He pushes his book towards her. “We can share.”

“Thanks,” she grins, leaning over to read along.

They’re halfway through the chapter when the PA system beeps through the mounted phone near the door, and Mr. Ackbar crosses to pull it from the receiver. He murmurs into the phone for a moment, hanging it back up to turn to the class.

“I have to run to the office for a moment, stay in your seats. I’ll be right back.”

He leaves them then, and Rey takes this opportunity to check her phone.

She scrolls up through her messages, finding one from Finn saying he wants to catch a movie after school with Poe. She senses from the tone that it’s a date and she’s not invited.

Great.

“I like your shirt,” Doph comments.

She glances down at the new All Time Low shirt she picked up from work last week. “Thanks. The new album came out last week and they sent all of this new merch.”

“Yeah, I grabbed a copy. Do you like it?”

“So far.” She drums her fingers along the wood top of the station, feeling a prickling at her nape. Is she just _imagining_ his eyes from behind her now? “There are a couple of really good ones on there.”

“You said you worked at Hot Topic, right?”

“Yeah. It’s fucking sweet.”

He grins. “I bet.”

“Yeah, I—”

Mr. Ackbar returns then, cutting their conversation short. Doph grins at her before he points his attention to the open book in front of them, and Rey can’t help but return it.

She feels that prickle again, the urge _overwhelming,_ and surely a peek won’t hurt…

She turns as stealthily as she can, pretending to catch a glance at the clock on the wall behind her. As her eyes drop from it, she’s not sure if she’s surprised or not when she finds Ben staring back at her.

His arms are crossed, his eyes so _angry,_ and she wishes that she knew. Knew what she _did._ She still has this pathetic desire to _fix_ it.

But that’s impossible if he won’t even tell her.

Her teacher’s voice cuts through her musings. “Eyes up front, class.”

Rey jerks her head forward, feeling her cheeks heat with embarrassment. She doesn’t look back for the rest of class.

* * *

Her last class of the day is library, which can’t even be called a _class,_ really— it’s more of a filler slot for people like her who didn’t really want to take any extracurriculars. It mostly just consists of Rey sitting on a stool behind the counter and checking books in and out.

It’s actually a pretty sweet setup.

She’s kicked back behind the counter now, thumbing through a copy of _I Am Legend_ and counting down the minutes until she can go home.

She doesn’t look up when he comes in, but she finds out quickly she isn’t the only one.

He hasn’t noticed her yet— brushing past the checking desk as he drops a book in the return bin and moves towards a section in the back. She watches him disappear between the shelves, allowing herself to watch him like a total creep.

She knows he’ll have to come here to check something out, and she’s both excited and nervous to have another moment alone.

She wonders if she might be an actual masochist.

Ben comes out a good ten minutes later, holding an impossibly thick book and looking down at the back cover as he strides up towards the front.

He notices her about ten feet away, halting as he stares back at her.

The silence proves too much for her. “We have to stop meeting like this?”

His mouth turns down in a frown, his shoulders rising and falling with a sigh as he shakes his head.

“It’s just me here, dude,” she grumbles. “If you want the book you’re gonna have to talk to me.”

He stomps forward begrudgingly, dropping the book on the counter and crossing his arms. His silence makes her irritated.

“ _Lord of the Rings?_ Is this your first time reading it?”

Complete silence as she scans the book a little slower than necessary.

“It’s really good,” she tries.

Nothing.

“I read it when I was thirteen.”

This gets his attention. “No, you didn’t.”

She furrows her brow. “Yes, I did.”

“You read this big ass book when you were thirteen.”

She nods. “Yep. _Return of the King_ was coming out in theaters and I wanted to see it for my birthday but I had just found out there was a book and I have this thing where I want to read the book before I—”

She realizes she’s rambling, and he’s just staring at her.

“Anyway,” she clears her throat. “Yeah, I did. Saw the movie on my birthday.”

“You went to a movie on Christmas Eve?”

“You remember my birthday?”

He frowns. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh.” She tries not to look crestfallen. “Well, yeah. I always do. It’s sort of like this dumb birthday tradition.”

He’s looking at her curiously as if he might want clarification, and this isn’t exactly the conversation she _wants_ to be having with him but he’s still _here_ and he’s still _talking_ and she greedily wants every moment he’ll give her.

“Yeah, see, birthdays aren’t really much of a thing in foster care. Especially when you get moved around as much as I did. It’s just that I never really _knew_ anybody.” She flicks her eyes away, afraid to see pity on his face. She clears her throat. “But when I was eight, my foster parents let me pick one thing I could do. Anything I wanted. I asked to go see a movie.”

“What did you see?”

“Hm?” She's a little surprised by his curiosity. “Oh. Jack Frost. The dumb snowman movie? With Michael Keaton?”

He makes a face.

“Yeah,” she laughs. “It wasn’t very good. Anyway, so this is probably _really_ dumb, but keep in mind I was just a kid, but I—”

He tilts his head forward as if _really_ listening, and she realizes she’s never really admitted this out loud.

“—I pretended everyone in the theater came just for my birthday. That they were my… family.”

God, it sounds _pathetic_ when she says it out loud. She shifts her eyes to the top of the counter, feeling her face heat.

He doesn’t say anything for several seconds, and when he does his voice is quiet. “You still do that?”

“Yeah. It’s dumb. I know. It just sort of became a thing.”

Silence stretches between them, and when she looks up, she finds for the first time that he isn’t staring at her as if he can’t stand the sight of her. He’s looking at her like… well. Just like he did after he kissed her.

It makes her chest hurt.

She sees the moment he comes to his senses, his expression going blank as he holds out a hand for his book. She places it there gently, and he gives her a quiet _thanks_ before he turns and leaves the library.

Rey spends the rest of the hour wondering why she even told him in the first place.

* * *

She isn’t even sure if she’s surprised by another note in her locker as she stops there before heading home that day— but after her encounter with Ben, she can’t help but be a little disheartened by it.

She furrows her brow. _All Time Low?_

She glances down at her shirt, and she’s struck with the conversation from anatomy class.

_Yeah I grabbed a copy._

Did Doph…?

She looks down at the piece of paper again. She realizes she’s never seen Doph take any notes. The only papers they’ve dealt with in the class so far are quizzes and it’s not like she’s ever tried glancing at that.

It makes sense. The way he’s been so nice to her, the way he’s always chatting her up about bands… she should have probably put it together before. It’s a good thing, she thinks. Doph is sweet, and he’s a cute guy— she should be _happy_ about this.

As she closes her locker and starts for the parking lot to meet Finn, she tries not to think about why she sort of _isn’t_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Really_ comin’ in hard with that angst, man.
> 
> Song Note Lyrics:
> 
> 1)Only One by Yellowcard
> 
> Scream my lungs out and try to get to you,  
> You are my only one.  
> I let go  
> There's just no one that gets me like you do  
> You are my only,  
> My only one.
> 
> 2) Holly by All Time Low
> 
> Just one fix  
> To keep me in the mix  
> And I'm still strung out on you  
> Drove all night  
> I'm the deer in your headlights  
> What's left of me you'll swallow soon  
> Too much of you is never enough


	4. Ben Solo Be Damned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warned you this was angsty. I totally did. Don’t you come for me. I’ll be totally emo about it.

“When are you just going to put that poor guy out of his misery?”

Rey flips the note face-down on the table. “What?”

Finn shakes his head as he pops another fry in his mouth. “He’s obviously in love with you, just like, say something.”

“What if it’s not even Doph?”

“I mean… why don’t you check the handwriting?”

She frowns. “He doesn’t really take notes, I’ve tried but… he literally never opens his notebook. What do you want me to do, snatch it?”

“I’m just saying…”

“It’s probably not even him,” she mutters. She hopes it’s not obvious by her voice how much she sort of hopes it _isn’t_ Doph. Even she knows her feeble hopes are pathetic.

“Rey.” Finn sighs. “The guy sits by you _every day_ chatting you up and asking about your angsty music, and I mean… that seems pretty obvious to me.” 

“You think so?”

“I mean, who else could it be?”

Rey can’t help the way her mouth turns down in a frown. She gives a defeated shrug of her shoulders, and Finn doesn’t miss the morose look on her face. 

“You have to get over him, Rey.”

“I _am.”_

Finn leans across the table, lowering his voice. “It’s been three months, and you still get all mopey when you see him.”

“I think if I just… if I knew _why_ he decided that he hated me. Maybe I could—”

“He hates _everyone,_ Rey. You can’t let this get to you.”

“But that night—”

“He was drunk. He was _high._ There was a hot girl there. You can’t build up this idea of him in your head based on that. He’s a dick. If he wasn’t— he wouldn’t have treated you the way he has for _three fucking months.”_

Rey clenches her jaw. He’s right. She _knows_ he is. “I know,” she whispers. “I _know._ It’s just hard, okay?”

“I know, babe.” His expression turns sympathetic. “I just hate watching you mope around after some asshole who doesn’t even deserve your time.”

Rey breathes in deep to release it slowly through her nostrils in a rush. “Yeah. You’re right. Maybe I should just say something to Doph.”

“At the very least you could give it a shot? Could take your mind off… you know.”

She nods, about to open her mouth to speak when a body slides into the seat next to her. “Hey, guys!”

Rey grins at the tiny girl who’s giving her a wide smile. “Hey, Rose.”

“Do you two have plans this weekend?”

Rey looks to Finn who gives her a little shrug. She turns back to Rose. “Not that I know of. What’s up?”

“Armie’s parents are going out of town for the weekend. We’re going to throw a Halloween party!”

“Oh.” Rey nods her head in thought. “That could be fun.”

“It’s going to be amazing,” Rose assures. “I’m making him buy all sorts of decorations and my older sister is going to get us booze— say you’ll come. Please?”

She draws out the syllables on her _please_ with a pout, and Rey’s face breaks into a grin. “Okay. Sure.”

“Yes!” Rose pumps her fist. “Costumes are mandatory though.” She points her finger in warning. “So don’t try and get out of it. You already said you’re coming. No buts.”

Rey holds up her hands in truce. “Fine. Okay. Costumes. Don’t expect anything extravagant.”

“Fine, fine.” She waves her off. “It’s going to be great.”

Finn pipes up. “Is it okay if I uh, bring a friend?

Rey cuts her eyes to him, keeping her mouth shut. Finn and Poe don’t exactly _advertise_ their situation. 

“Oh my God, yes. Bring whoever.” She squeals a little as she throws her arms around Rey’s neck. Rey is still not _quite_ used to Rose’s level of enthusiasm, but she awkwardly pats at her back all the same. “I’m so excited!”

“It’s going to be fun,” Rey remarks. 

“Everyone’s coming I think— Kaydel, and Gwen, and Ben—”

Rey frowns. It probably should have occurred to her that Ben would be coming. She tries to keep her expression passive as Rose rattles off a few more names.

“Anyway, so I’ve been telling everyone eight, but just show up whenever. We’ll be around.”

“I work until seven,” Rey tells her, “but I’ll bring my shit with me, and Poe and Finn can pick me up after.”

“Awesome! I guess I’ll see you guys then?”

“Yeah, we’ll see you then.”

She gives them a goodbye, flouncing off back to their table where Rey notices Ben has already made himself scarce. She wonders if it’s a bad idea, being around him outside of school. 

They haven’t really spoken since that day in the library, even if they still share glances that leave her confused. Even if he still treats her like some sort of pariah. 

It’s ridiculous.

She isn’t going to miss out on experiences because _he’s_ a prick. 

She’s going to go, Ben Solo be damned.

* * *

“Oh my God. You look _amazing!”_ Rose spins Rey around as she squeals. “I love your hair, how did you get it so black?”

Rey pushes the straightened hair out of her face. “Wash-in color. It won’t last very long.”

“It looks so good,” Rose gushes. “So who are you?”

Hux clicks his tongue at his girlfriend. “Babe, seriously?”

“What?”

Hux scoffs. “The red tie, the hair, the black button down— you’re Gerard, right?”

Rey grins. “From Helena.”

“Man, that’s amazing. You win the costume contest.”

“Seriously?” Rose pouts. “What about me?”

“Listen,” Hux sighs. “I love you, but I will never be a Harry Potter nerd.”

“But I’m Luna Lovegood!”

Hux toys with her wig. “And you make a killer blonde, but honestly, Harry Potter is sort of lame.”

Rose hmphs as she adjusts her spectrespecs. “Whatever.” She turns her attention to Rey. “Did _you_ see Order of Phoenix this summer?”

“Oh yeah, we all went.” She hitches a thumb at Poe and Finn, who are off standing behind her talking to Kaydel.

“Oh my God, I’m so rude! Who is your friend?”

“Oh that’s…” Rey gives this some thought. “That’s Finn’s friend Poe.”

“He’s kinda hot,” Rose remarks. “Is he Leonidas? He is really um, doing that Sparta skirt justice.”

Hux throws up his arms. “I’m literally _right_ here.”

“Oh shut up. You’ll get your little ginger Asian babies.”

She bumps her shoulder with his, and Hux grins goofily into his drink. It’s kind of sickening how adorable they are. Why is _everyone_ so happily hooked up in Rey’s life?

“We’ve got everything you can think of to drink,” Rose tells her. “It’s all set up in the kitchen.”

“I’ll go grab myself something.”

“Okay,” Rose nods. “We’re dancing when you get back. Everyone is acting like they’re too cool to dance.”

Rey grimaces. She’ll have to think of a good excuse as to why she can’t do _that_ before she gets back. She pushes through the crowd with effort— easing by the sloshing cups and the raised voices to reach the kitchen.

There’s an entire spread of various bottles and a giant keg of beer— and Rey pushes an empty red cup under the spout to fill it with the amber liquid. She nearly collides with a large body as she turns to leave the room, immediately beginning to apologize as she protects her drink.

“Shit, I’m sorry I—”

She sucks in a breath. His hands are wrapped around her shoulders to steady her, and he’s only just now realizing who he’s nearly run over. 

His voice is too quiet for the noise of the party that rages behind him, but he is so close that she catches it anyway. “Your hair.” 

She’s hyper aware of his hands on her. “It’s temporary.”

He peels away his fingers one by one, as if it’s a chore to do so. As if maybe it’s hard _not_ to touch her, but she’s probably deluding herself. 

He’s wearing the same shirt. From the concert. He smells the same too— like liquor and weed and something that’s just _Ben_ underneath it all— and it’s almost like she can feel his mouth on her. It’s like that night was just yesterday. 

She clears her throat. “No costume?”

“No.” His jaw works. “Not my thing.”

She doesn’t mean to smile, but somehow that just seems so _like_ him. He doesn’t return it, reaching around her to grab for a bottle of vodka as he pulls it back by the neck. He holds it up a little in a showy gesture, and then he’s back out in the crowd of people and moving far away from her. 

“Ben.” She moves to chase after him. “ _Ben.”_

Rose tugs at her arm before she can get very far. “Dance with me!”

She turns her head back in the direction that Ben disappeared in— seeing no sign of him. She blows out a frustrated breath, turning back to Rose and training her face into a happier one. “Okay!”

Metro Station blares over the speakers, and Rey downs her beer as she follows Rose into the crowd to lose herself in the steady beat of _shake, shake, shake, s-shake it._

As Rose jumps around, Rey actually allows herself to let loose and have a little fun. She doesn’t really know what she’s doing, but she knows what she _isn’t_ doing.

She _isn’t_ thinking about Ben Solo.

Mostly.

* * *

Rey is actually having fun. 

Like, _so_ much fun.

It’s something she hadn’t expected when she showed up here. She has never danced so much in her entire life. She didn’t even think she really _liked_ dancing, but she’s done _so_ much of it.

She’s danced with Rose, with Finn, even with _Poe_ . They’re all in a sweaty circle at the moment, Finn doing some sort of ridiculous kicking maneuver that’s probably going to get someone killed and is _definitely_ going to rip his Spider-Man suit eventually. He’s lost his mask at some point— and Rey is certain they will never be seeing it again. 

She’s had far too much beer by now, and she knows this because all of the words to _Paralyzer_ are blending together and on a good day she could scream this entire song from memory. 

She’s out of breath when it finally ends— they _all_ are, and they push to the edge of the makeshift dance floor to fall on a couch. 

“I think I’m drunk,” Rose slurs.

Gwen blows out a stream of smoke from her cigarette from the loveseat across from them, crossing her legs beneath the gauzy fabric of her Roman dress. “You’ve been drunk for an hour.”

“Have not,” she hiccups. 

Hux leans over the couch, situating her wig. “I think I need to get you to bed.”

Rose bats him away. “What? No! It’s just getting started.” 

“It’s after midnight,” he informs her. 

“Psh,” she snorts. “Gimme some water, and I’ll be fine. But first—” She looks up at him with a pout. “Can you take me to pee?”

He sighs wearily as he holds out a hand, and she shakily stands as he helps her hobble off in search of the bathroom.

Rey lays her head against the back of the couch as the room spins a little. “I don’t think Rose is the only one.”

“Such a lightweight,” Poe teases. 

“It’s hard to take you seriously when you’re wearing a loincloth,” Rey quips back.

“Don’t pretend that I don’t pull this off.”

Rey closes her eyes, making a disgruntled sound.

“Don’t argue with him, Rey,” Finn laughs. “You know how he gets when he drinks.”

“Yeah,” Rey sighs. “I think I need some air.”

Gwen points towards the living room. “Hux has a deck out back. Just head that way.”

She gives her thanks as she leaves them behind, moving in the direction Gwen pointed. She pushes her way through the crowd, maneuvering out the door and feeling relieved when the cool air touches her heated skin. 

She takes a deep breath of cool night air, closing her eyes and leaning over the railing as her head spins a little from the beer.

“You know,” a voice sounds behind her. “S’not fair that no matter _what_ I do… you’re always just… _there.”_

She doesn’t turn. There’s no point, because she feels the same way. It’s like she can’t _escape_ him.

“It’s not on purpose.”

“No,” he laughs, and she notices then how much he’s slurring. “I think it’s some sort of cosmic bullshit designed to fuck me.”

“Yes, Ben. My entire purpose in life is to fuck you.” She makes a face as she shakes her head. “No. I mean, fuck you over. Not—” She huffs. “You know what I mean.” 

“Yeah, trust me. I know what you mean.” 

She does turn then, leaning back on her elbows as she props against the railing. He’s lounging in a deck chair, half his face cast in shadow as he leans back under the awning. A little glowing ember burns at his mouth, and she can smell the weed from here. 

“Not much for parties?”

He shrugs, blowing out the smoke. “Not when you’re here.”

“Wow, aren’t you supposed to be nicer when you smoke?”

“This _is_ me being nice.”

“You know,” she starts, “we don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Do what?”

“This awful _I hate you_ thing. I mean, it’s fine, you _can_ hate me, but you don’t have to—”

“You think I hate you?”

She scoffs. “No, I _know_ you do.”

He’s quiet for a few moments, taking another slow drag as he stares back at her from the shadows. Then he stands, flicking the tiny end away as his long legs cross the deck, stumbling a little as he collapses over the railing. “So what if I do? What do you care?”

She makes a face. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I don’t know why you’re _doing_ this to me,” he groans.

She’s getting angry now, her head a slosh of too much beer and too much frustration that she’s been carrying for _months_. “What _I’m_ doing to _you?”_

He nods slowly. “Mhm.”

She turns to the side to shove at his shoulder, and even though he barely budges, he turns to rise to his full height to peer down at her. She shoves at his chest again as one hand grips the railing to steady himself. “Don’t you fucking tell me what _I’m_ doing to you. You’re the one who— who—” She’s breathing hard as her fists rest against his chest, and she can smell the alcohol now. He _reeks_ of it. “How much did you drink?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “All of it.”

“Why?”

He blows out a heavy breath through his nostrils, and he just looks… _defeated._ His voice is barely a whisper as he utters, “I don’t want to think about you anymore.”

She feels some flooding emotion— something she can’t name, but it _hurts._ Not like a cut, not some slice of pain that she can even pinpoint. It’s an all over hurt that makes it a little hard to _breathe_. 

She flattens her palms over his chest, closing the distance a little. “Ben. Can’t you just— if you’ll just _talk_ to me maybe we could—”

He shakes his head. “Don’t do that. Don’t.”

“Ben, _please_.” She hates the way her eyes sting. “Just talk to me.” Her hands move to cup his jaw, and he looks so _wrecked._ “Tell me what to do. Tell me what I can _do.”_

“No.” He says the word, but it’s a whisper, it’s barely anything. “This isn’t fair.”

She pushes up on her tiptoes. “Ben _.”_

“No. I don’t want—” His fingers are on her waist now, and despite his words he’s pulling her closer. Her head is still spinning, but she’s not sure if it’s the beer. “I can’t—”

His breath is like vodka and smoke and yet all she can think about is how soft she knows his lips are and he’s _so close_ that she could just press upwards a _little further—_

He spins her so fast it nearly makes her dizzy. The deck railing bites into her lower back, but his large hands mold her to him and her fingers are in his hair and his _tongue_ plunges inside her mouth as he kisses her sloppily and it’s _okay_ because it’s _him_ and she’s _tugging_ and he’s _pulling_ and she just wants _more._

She can feel the slight catch of his lip piercing against her mouth with the way he kisses her. She sucks at it greedily before swiping her tongue across it, and Ben _moans_ with it as he pins his hips against hers and he’s _so hard_ and Rey is _gasping_ into his mouth and he just swallows it down as he takes more and _more._

She closes her eyes and she loses herself to the scrape of teeth and the press of tongues and the heat of him is pressed against her hip and her palm slides down his chest slowly before she touches him through his jeans and he shudders all over and—

He breaks away from her so fast it nearly topples her over.

She’s still dizzy. From the beer, from _him—_ from all of it. 

“Ben? What are you—”

“You’re fucking _doing_ it again!”

She frowns as she tries to make sense of what he’s saying. “What am I doing?”

“Do you just want me to fuck you? Is that it? Some twisted little game where you pocket me for a little slut collection?”

She rears back as if he’s slapped her. “The fuck?”

“I don’t want to fucking _do_ this. I don’t want it. I don’t want _any_ of it. Not with _you_ . Don’t you fucking _get_ that?”

The tears slip out without her meaning for them too, and it hurts. _Everything_ hurts. Why would he— why would he fucking _say_ —

“Okay,” she whispers. “I hear you.”

She’s looking at the ground, but she can see the way his fists clench in anger. “Good. Just—” He makes some strangled sound. “Just leave me alone, Rey.” Then a soft whisper of, “Please.”

She nods, still watching her feet as tears slide over her cheeks. She doesn’t look up as he brushes past her. As he briskly moves down the steps that lead off the deck and disappears into the darkness behind the house. She has no idea where he’s going— and honestly, she doesn’t care. 

She pulls out her phone with numb fingers— telling Finn she’s going to wait by the car. She lies when he asks if something is wrong, telling him she just feels a little sick.

When she finds her way to the car— she climbs inside the back seat, curling into a little ball and letting the tears come freely. 

She can’t say how long she lies there. How long she ugly sobs in the backseat of a car as she replays Ben’s words over and over and _over._ When her eyes are finally dry, and there’s nothing left for her body to give— she can finally say that she actually _doesn’t_ care about Ben Solo.

She doesn’t care about anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. That’s the worst thing this big dummy will say to her, and be totally feels bad about it. I promise. BUT IN HIS MIND HE IS TOTALLLLLY JUSTIFIED. I wanna shake them both — but the only thing they’re both guilty of is being big ole dumb teenagers. But this was rock bottom so no we can start going up. 📈
> 
> Note lyric:
> 
> Hands Down by Dashboard Confessional
> 
> My hopes are so high,  
> That your kiss might kill me.  
> So won't you kill me,  
> So I die happy.
> 
> OMG THE AMAZINGLY TALENTED RAEBARBRET BROUGHT EMO BEN FROM THIS SCENE TO LIFE, AND I AM BOTH EXCITED AND AROUSED.  
>   
> He’s perfect. Like, incredibly perfect. I’m still crying just a little bit. If you aren’t (and you should be) give her a follow on her [twitter](https://twitter.com/_RaeBarb_) see more of her stunning art (and somehow equally stunning meme game lbr). ❤️  
> 


	5. Hoes Before Poes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it through the worst of it! We’re on a steady incline now. ❤️ 
> 
> You might have noticed the chapter count went up. There was an upcoming chapter that was entirely too long, so I decided to split it. (Yeah, it does make for a cliffhanger. I’m sorry, but are you surprised?)

It’s windy today, but Rey prefers the cold to the alternative. When her fingers are numb like this, it’s easy to ignore the numbness that exists deeper. The one in her chest that makes it hard to breathe sometimes. 

She pulls her coat a little tighter, but she’s not sure it matters.

It’s not coping, not really, but it’s the best she can manage. She just— can’t see him. Anatomy has been a nightmare, but she’s managed to keep her eyes on the floor or her station and _never_ looking back at him. She pretends he simply isn’t there, and it works.

Sometimes.

Even the notes in her locker have stopped, and yeah, she knows she wasn’t actively _doing_ anything about that situation— but it had felt like she’d lost everything at once. It’s selfish, seeing as she never approached Doph about them, but she kind of _wanted_ them, if only to make her feel a little better. She guesses that it’s been all too obvious just how unapproachable she is right now. She doesn’t even blame him. She’d give up on her too at this point. 

Now it feels like she sort of doesn’t have anything. 

The clamor up the bleachers doesn’t even alarm her. It won’t be the first time in the last few weeks he’s come to _talk some sense_ into her. 

He plops down beside her, placing a sandwich wrapped in napkins in her lap. “You can’t just keep eating vending machine garbage.”

“It’s fine, Finn.”

“It’s fucking _freezing_ out here, Rey.”

“I’m fine.”

“Rey.”

She huffs. “ _What_?”

“You can’t just spend every lunch hour on the football field.”

“I like it out here.”

“No. You don’t. You’re hiding.”

“No, I’m—”

“ _Rey.”_

She goes silent, staring down into her lap and picking at the edge of the napkin around the sandwich. She swallows around the lump in her throat, her voice coming out in a hushed whisper. “What do you want me to do, Finn?”

“I just want you to be _okay.”_

“I’m trying.”

He makes a frustrated sound. “No. You aren’t. You don’t think I hear you crying from my room? You get up, and you come to school, and you work— but every other moment you’re locked up in your room or hiding out here like you’re afraid to even _see_ him.”

“It hurts, Finn. It fucking hurts.”

“Can’t you just tell me what happened that night? At the party? I _know_ something did.”

“I told you, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Maybe I could just help if you—”

“ _Please,”_ she urges. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Then this has got to stop. It’s unhealthy. I know you’re sad, and I know he fucked you up somehow but he’s just a stupid guy, Rey. You are… _so_ fucking incredible and if this dumbass can’t see that…” Finn shakes his head. “You don’t _deserve_ to feel this way. Because of _anyone_. Do you understand me?”

“I hear you, but—”

“No. I don’t think you do,” he chides. “I think you’re listening, but you don’t _hear_ me.” His hand settles over knee, and his palm is warm against the skin that peeks out through the rip there. “I love you, Rey. I wouldn’t have survived middle school without you. It’s not… easy for me. Being the way I am. Kids are… fucking _assholes,_ but you…” He takes a deep breath. “You were always there. You showed me it’s okay to be who I am. You’ve always just _been_ there for me.”

“Of course I have,” she says softly. “You’re my person.”

He nods. “And that’s why I need you to be okay. I want to do the same for you. Let me _be_ there for you, because it’s _killing_ me not to be.”

She doesn’t mean to cry, but she feels the wet at her lashes anyway. “I’m sorry, Finn. I’m sorry for worrying you. It’s just… I can’t even explain it. It’s so stupid, you know? But I— I felt so— I felt like he _knew_ me a little. Like he _got_ it. My whole life I’ve been tough because I _had_ to be and for that one little moment it felt like I didn’t _have_ to be. I don’t even know why he made me feel that way, but it was like…” She heaves out a sigh. “I don’t know. It felt good. Then it was just… gone. And I don’t know why.” She looks up at Finn with watery eyes. “That’s the worst part. I don’t know _why._ It’s like he was a completely different person, and I don’t know _why.”_

“And you might never know,” Finn says softly. “I can tell you from experience here, but guys are… fucking dumb. We do dumb shit. We say dumb shit. Fuck, half the time we just _are_ dumb shits.”

Rey nods, sniffling a little as a choked laugh escapes her. “Yeah. You kinda are.”

“But you’re fucking _tough,_ Rey. And yeah, maybe that’s because you’ve had to be— but you _are._ Maybe you forgot that a little. So, here’s what we’re going to do.”

She gives him a confused look. “What we're going to do?”

Finn nods. “One: you’re going to eat that fucking sandwich.” He points at the napkin threateningly. “Two: when we get on Thanksgiving Break in two days, we’re going to spend it doing all sorts of shit that makes you happy. I don’t even care what it is. Just me and you.”

“What about Poe?”

“Bros before hoes, my friend.”

Rey laughs. “I’m not sure if that applies here.”

“Well, then” — Finn shrugs aimlessly — “hoes before Poes. Whatever. The point is, Poe will understand. We’re going to have the best few days, and by the end of it— you’re not going to give a flying fuck about Ben Solo. Got it?”

Rey’s brow knits, not sure if she can picture that ending. 

Finn tilts his head in encouragement. “ _Rey.”_

“Okay. Okay.” She gives him a wide grin. “Deal.”

“That’s my girl. Now eat that fucking sandwich.”

She unwraps it dutifully, and with Finn’s arm around her shoulder she eats every bite. 

It’s the warmest she’s felt in weeks.

* * *

“This is… so greasy.”

Rey takes a bite that’s far larger than acceptable. “But it’s _so_ good.”

Finn is staring at his slice of pizza as he holds it upside down, watching the grease drip onto the plate. “I miss Maz’s turkey.”

“God,” Rey moans. “I still can’t believe she _made_ turkey. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had a Thanksgiving turkey?”

Finn frowns. “I know, babe. Seriously, I’m so glad you’re staying with her too.” 

“Did I tell you she offered to let me stay after over the summer if I need to? Before college?”

“Me too,” Finn grins. “She’s just… honestly. I don’t know how I got by before her. She’s an angel.”

“Agreed.” She takes another large bite, chewing thoughtfully before she sets the slice back onto her plate. “I want to say thank you,” she tells Finn quietly. “For this week. I needed it.”

“I know.” He reaches across the table to squeeze her hand. “I’m glad. You look… so much better. Like yourself.”

“I _feel_ better.”

It’s true, mostly. They’ve gone to the aquarium and to the boardwalk and even spent a little time antiquing where Rey found a bizarre wood carving of a creepy-looking cat that she loves— and she’s hardly thought about him. 

Sure, there are moments at night where that creeping melancholy finds its way in— but mostly she’s really… okay. 

Okay is good. Okay is a lot better than what she was. 

She honestly doesn’t know what she’d do without Finn. 

“Do you think you’ll be okay Monday? No hiding out at lunchtime?”

Rey gives it some thought. It’s still there, deep down, that nagging urge to _know_ why it couldn’t work— but it’s duller now. Not as sharp. Like before there was a rusty nail pressing down hard into her skin, but now it’s just a fingernail or something. 

Unpleasant, but not unbearable. 

“Yeah,” she tells him honestly. “I really think I’ll be okay. I still… wish I knew, but it doesn’t kill me that I don’t now.”

“I’m really proud of you,” Finn tells her. “Really, I am. You survived your first heartbreak. You’re officially a teenager now.”

Rey laughs. “I feel a little behind.”

“Really? I thought you um…” He raises his eyebrows suggestively. “You know.”

“Oh, I have.” She shrugs. “But nobody I cared about. Just dumb flings that I could definitely blame on too much weed. It wasn’t even any good. Whatever. What I mean is… I’ve never…” She rolls her eyes. “I feel so lame. I just mean— I’ve never cared about someone like that. I’ve never thought I might want to do the whole dumb _boyfriend girlfriend_ thing. But I don’t know, with him…”

“I get it,” Finn offers. “I really do. It’s hard feeling something and finding out they weren’t who you thought. Trust me, it’s even harder on my end. Do you know how many _bi-curious_ assholes I had to sift through before I found Poe? They were happy enough to fuck around with me but acted ashamed to be seen with me in public.”

“I’m sorry.”

He waves her off. “Boys are assholes on both sides, babe. That’s all I’m saying.” He raises his glass of coke. “To assholes.”

She raises her own glass, grinning. “To friends.”

Finn grins back. “Yeah. That too.”

“I have to pee,” she tells him. “I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks for sharing. Bathroom is that way I think.” He points towards the front, and she gets up from the table in search of it.

It doesn’t take long to do her business, and she’s situating her long-sleeved _Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge_ shirt when she comes around the corner of the hallway that leads to the restroom. She looks up, stilling as everything she’s patched up this week threatens to crumble. 

It’s the first time she’s seen him since that night at the party. Or rather, the first night she’s really allowed herself to _look_ at him. 

She can’t help it. She laughs. It’s bitter, and nothing like how she normally sounds while doing so, but it’s something. 

“Wow,” she huffs. “It really _isn’t_ fair.”

He stands there near the counter, holding a takeout box and looking like… well. Honestly, she can’t even decide what that expression is. 

Loss? Remorse? Pity?

It’s amazing that she almost doesn’t care. 

She moves to push past him, but his hand shoots out to grab her wrist. For a moment she just stares at it dumbly. When she looks back up to his face, she finds his mouth hanging open slightly and his brow furrowed and there’s _something_ on the tip of his tongue that he can’t quite seem to get out. 

“Yeah?”

“I just—” He swallows, releasing his hold on her. “I just wanted to say—”

“ _What_ , Ben? _”_

“I’m sorry.”

Surely she’s heard him wrong. “What?”

“For what I said.” She furrows her brow, and he goes on quietly. “At the party. I was so drunk, and so _angry,_ and I—” He takes a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. No matter how I feel, and even if I can’t do _this—_ ” He gestures between them. “I shouldn’t have said those things. It’s been bothering me.”

“I’m so sad for you,” she says bitterly. 

“I mean it, Rey. I really am sorry. I just wanted to tell you that.” 

She stares at him for several seconds. A part of her wants to press this, to beg him _again_ to tell her where the fuck his head is at, but she’s just tired. Tired of all of it. 

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he echoes. “I just wanted you to know.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s better if we just don’t talk, after this,” he goes on. “I’m just not going to change my mind, and I can’t help the way I feel about this, so it’s just better if we just… don’t talk. I promise I won’t. It will be easier.”

She’s so confused, but at this point she’s learned that this is just how it will be with Ben. He’s going to keep on being this way without any sort of real explanation, and honestly, she’s just so fucking _tired._

“Right. Easier. Got it. I’ve got to get back,” she mumbles. “Finn’s waiting.”

His face falls, and his eyes soften in a way that she can only describe as _sadness._ Once again, she has to resist the urge to press. “Right,” he says quietly. “You’d better get back then.”

“Bye, Ben.” She turns to go, and his reply is so soft she might almost miss it if she weren’t so attuned to the sound of his voice. 

“Bye, Rey.”

She doesn’t tell Finn she saw Ben, and she does her damndest not to let it show. She’s determined to take his advice. When she returns to school Monday, she doesn’t want to give a flying fuck about Ben Solo.

If that’s even possible.

* * *

Rey taps her pencil across her notebook, trying to pay attention as Mr. Ackbar prattles on about muscular structure. She’s filled with some anxious energy, wrestling with the same thing that’s plagued her for the entire week.

 _Just give it a chance,_ Finn’s voice sounds in her head. _It will be good for you._

It makes sense. She knows that. She knows that trying to find someone who _actually_ likes her will take her mind off of Ben. 

Not that her mind is _on_ Ben— because of course it isn’t. 

But it’s possible she might have missed her chance. She’s been little more than a ghost these last few weeks— shunning conversation from just about _everyone—_ her lab partner no exception. 

The notes stopping have been a pretty clear sign. 

So when class nears the end, and their teacher finishes his lesson to let them talk quietly amongst themselves— Rey takes advantage to assess.

She turns to Doph nonchalantly, pointing to the Story of the Year sticker on the front of Doph’s folder. “I heard they have a new album coming out next year”

“Yeah,” Doph nods, eyes flicking from the sticker back to her face. “ _The Black Swan._ I just heard them talking about it on Fuse.”

“I loved the last one. I’m excited to see if they top it.”

Doph shrugs. “We’ll see I guess.” He gives her a wary look. “You seem… better. If you don’t mind me saying.”

Rey frowns. “Oh… yeah. I’ve kind of been… working through some shit lately.”

“So you’re good now? You’ve been so quiet. You seemed like you needed space.”

Rey considers for a few moments, that lingering urge to turn around and look at Ben creeping up like it always does, but she stomps it down just as fast. “Yeah,” she urges. “I’m good now.”

Doph grins, and she finds herself wishing it made her feel the same way Ben’s does. “That’s cool.”

“Yeah,” she smiles back. “It is.”

The bell rings not long after, and Rey spends the rest of the day assessing her feelings. She doesn’t feel that same all-consuming _want_ for Doph that Ben had instilled in her— but she definitely _likes_ him. Maybe it would be okay to just give him a chance. Maybe with time…

She wishes there were some sort of clear sign that would just _tell_ her what she should do. Some magic button that could sweep away any lingering feelings she has for Ben and transfer them to someone who might _actually_ want her. 

If only it were that simple.

But when the day ends and she finds herself at her locker to deposit her books— a scrap of paper flutters out and there’s no denying the little flutter in her stomach when she sees it.

She stoops to pick it up, smiling softly as she reads the front. 

_Story of the Year._

Maybe this _is_ a sign. Maybe she should finally start listening. 

The person who wrote this down just for her actually _cares_ about her— and who knows? Maybe with time she’ll forget all about Ben. Maybe with time she won’t even remember how much she wanted him, and how much he _didn’t_ want her back. 

There’s no way to know for sure, but finally, she thinks she might be ready to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is about to come to a head! 👀
> 
> Note lyric:
> 
> Until The Day I Die by Story of the Year
> 
> You remind me of the times  
> When I knew who I was  
> But still the second hand will catch us  
> Like it always does


	6. Fuck Up My Self Esteem, Big Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just needed another Bazine scene because I love her.

“So I don’t get it,” Bazine drawls. “This guy has been leaving you these cutesy little lyric notes in your locker?”

“Right.”

“What did the last one say?”

Rey pulls the tiny square of paper from her pocket.

Bazine’s brow furrows. “Spill Canvas?”

“Yeah.” Rey nods. “I got this one yesterday.”

“Nice. So, he obviously digs you.”

“I guess so?”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I’ve never… really done this.”

“What, talked to a boy?”

“No, I mean— well, yes, sort of, but what I mean is—” Rey blows out a breath. “I guess I can’t figure out how to go about it.”

“Dude, I don’t think you can get a clearer signal than the one he’s sending. Note boy is obviously crazy about you.”

“See, I think the problem is… I’m still a little hung up on someone else.”

“Hotpants?”

“His name is Ben.”

Bazine waves her off. “Same thing. But you said he was a dickwad, right?”

“He’s been fucking awful, mostly. He’s made it super clear he doesn’t like me.”

“So…?”

 _“So,”_ Rey huffs. “Tell me why I can’t fucking get over him.”

Bazine whistles. “Man, young love. This takes me back. Firstly, I feel like you’re old enough to know now that teenage girls are _wired_ to love assholes.”

“What?”

Bazine nods fervently. “It’s true. I don’t know what it is, but something in our little teen brains screams _fuck up my self esteem, big boy.”_

“So, you’re saying it isn’t my fault.”

“Yep. Don’t let anyone tell you different. Baz knows all.”

“This is very educational.” Rey laughs despite herself. “So, what’s the second thing?”

“Oh. Right. _Secondly—_ you need to learn right now that guys like Hotpants are a dime a dozen. You can find a good-looking asshole on any street corner— but some sweetie that’s dropping notes in your locker? They’re a little more scarce.” 

Rey looks down at her shoes. “I guess so.”

“I _know_ so. It sounds to me like you’ve got some nice kid who’s drooling over you and you’re too chicken shit to just ask him out.”

“I mean… yeah. Pretty much.”

Bazine swings her legs around on the counter she’s perched on. “Listen to me.” She points a finger at Rey sternly. “You march up to that boy tomorrow—”

“He’s gone until next Monday. Some sort of trip for Spanish Club.”

“Whatever.” Bazine rolls her eyes. “When he gets _back—_ you march up to that boy and you slap one of these little cutesy notes on the table and you tell him he’s taking you out that weekend.”

“Just like that?”

She crosses her arms, nodding. “Just like that.”

“What if I’m wrong?”

“Then so what?” Bazine makes a face. “Then some dumb boy is lucky enough to be asked out by a hot girl who rocks Doc Martins.”

Rey gives her a sheepish grin, clacking the toes of her boots together. “Thanks, Baz.”

“Anytime. I remember what it’s like.”

Rey rolls her eyes. “Like _you_ ever had any problems with boys.”

“Girl,” Bazine scoffs. “I didn’t get my tits on or my braces off until senior year. Trust me. I _know.”_

Rey grins as Bazine hops off the counter to help a girl that’s just walked in, and Rey lets her words rattle around in her head. Doph will be back for the last short week before Christmas break, and by then she’s going to have some sort of game plan. She could ask to see him over break. Something. _Anything._ It doesn’t matter.

Either way, she’s going to do it.

* * *

Rey checks the scrap of paper one more time as she waits impatiently in her anatomy seat. She knows it can’t be a coincidence that she didn’t get a single note while Doph was gone— but this was waiting for her just before lunch the first day he gets back. 

It gives her a little courage.

She is the first one in class— rushing inside as soon as lunch was over and settling in her seat as she waits for him to arrive. 

Ben enters first, and Rey refuses to look at him. Even if she can see his dark jeans and his shit-kicker boots from her peripherals— she won’t look. It’ll only make her not want to do this. 

Doph strolls in not long after, giving her a grin and settling into the seat beside her. “Hey, Rey. I was going to ask you if you caught that new video from—”

“I need to talk to you.”

His brow knits a little in confusion. “About?”

She swallows, trying to cling to her resolve. “About the notes.”

He frowns. “Notes?”

“You know,” Rey urges. “The ones you’ve been leaving in my locker.”

Doph looks genuinely confused. “Rey, I… haven’t been leaving anything in your locker.”

“What?” She feels a tremor of panic. “But I… the lyrics—” She pulls a handful of scraps out of the front pocket of her backpack, shuffling through them. “Half the time the lyrics match what we talk about in here.”

Doph’s mouth hangs open a little, obviously dumbfounded. “Rey, I… I think you’re cool, and all… but I sort of like someone else.”

Rey stares back at him, genuinely not understanding. “So, you didn’t…?”

He shakes his head. “Sorry, I didn’t.”

“Oh.” 

She looks down at the wood of the counter, slowly shoving the crumpled paper back into her bag and trying to make sense of it. She’d been so _sure._ Who else would know so much about her music interests? Would know which lyrics to use to really make her giddy? She doesn’t talk to anyone else. Not really. Not except—

Her head jerks up. No. _No._ It can’t be. Not him. He hates her. He—

She whips around to look at him, but he’s no longer there. She turns her head to catch him retreating— his large form ducking around the doorframe of the classroom. 

Why would he— there’s no _possible_ way that he would—

She shoots up from her chair, grabbing her backpack and practically sprinting to the front of the class as she moves for the homework tray that Mr. Ackbar keeps at the edge of his desk. She shuffles through the papers, ignoring the looks she must be getting from the dozen or so students that have already taken their seats behind her, muttering to herself as her heart beats wildly in her chest.

“Come on. Come on. Come— _there._ ”

She pulls out Ben’s paper, holding it with trembling hands as she fixes her eyes on the name at the top. 

_It’s the exact same._

She’s still holding it when the bell rings. When Mr. Ackbar steps inside the classroom and says her name. She turns to look at him, scrambling for an explanation and coming up with nothing.

She drops the paper back into the bin, mind buzzing with white noise as she tries to make sense of it all. 

“I— I just—”

“Rey?”

Her eyes dart to the door. “I… have to go.”

“What? You can’t just—”

“I’m feeling sick. I’m sorry.”

He shouts her name as she pushes past him— sprinting down the hall in the direction Ben had gone and pushing through the double doors at the end forcefully. She catches sight of him marching across the courtyard, heading in the direction of the parking lot, and she takes off in a run as she shouts his name.

“Ben. _Ben.”_ He doesn’t turn. “ _Ben!”_

He stills on the grass, fists clenched as he keeps his back to her. He moves to take another step.

“ _Ben!”_

She catches up to him, panting as her lungs burn and her heart pounds and she reaches for his arm to urge him to turn but he just _stands there_ so she moves around to stand in front of him. 

His face is hard, his eyes fixed somewhere over her head and his voice is _impossibly_ low when he speaks. “What?”

“Ben… I _know.”_

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She makes a frustrated sound. “Yes, you do. I know you’ve been leaving the notes in my locker.”

His jaw works, still not looking at her. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big…” Her heart pounds so hard she almost fears it might burst. Why is there a flutter of _hope_ in her chest? She shouldn’t _care._ “Are you _kidding?”_

“It’s really not a big deal, Rey. I need to go.”

He tries to move past her, but she jumps in the way to stop him. “No. You’re not going anywhere not until you explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain.”

“ _Yes, there is!”_

He finally looks at her, taking in the way she’s breathing hard and the way her cheeks are surely flushed with the heat she feels there. She watches the cascade of emotions on his face— the shift of his brow and the turn of his mouth and suddenly it’s not anger on his face. 

Not even close.

“Please, don’t make a big deal of this.”

Her mouth falls open. “How can I not?”

“Because it _isn’t_ ,” he urges. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Her fists clench. “ _Not a big deal?_ It was a big deal to _me.”_

“Well… it shouldn’t have been. It just proves I shouldn’t have fucking done it in the first place.”

He tries to move around her again, and again she stays in his way. “Did you know? That I thought it was Doph?”

He just shrugs.

“Ben. Did you _know?”_

He releases a deep breath from his nostrils. “I figured it out.”

“Why? Was it a weird game? Were you just trying to get me to think that _someone_ actually liked me?”

He laughs, a strangled sound with no humor. “No, Rey. It wasn’t a game.”

“Then what was it?” She’s practically shouting now. “What the fuck _was_ it?”

“I couldn’t _help_ it. Okay?”

He’s breathing hard now, his voice at a decibel that matches her own. “Couldn’t help it?”

“I’ve been losing my fucking mind, Rey. Is that what you want to hear? _Is it?”_

“No, I—”

“I’d hear a song and think of you. I’d turn around and _there you were_ and there were all these _feelings_ inside me and if I couldn’t be with you then I needed to at least—”

She’s crying now, because he’s so stupid. So incredibly _stupid._ “But you could, Ben. You fucking _could_ have been with me, and instead you—”

“Rey,” his teeth are gritted now as he shifts back into anger. “I’m not a good person, I fucking _know_ that— hell, maybe that’s why you _want_ me. Maybe that’s why you can’t leave me alone. But this is something I just _can’t_ do. Not because it’s wrong, but because I’m not going to _share_ you. I _can’t._ I don’t know why you’d want to fuck around with me while you’re with Finn, but I—”

She rears back, visibly confused. “What?”

“I just can’t do it, Rey. I won’t lie, it surprises me that _you_ would even want to, but I fucking can’t. Not with how I feel about you.”

She thinks back to every moment with Ben over the last five months. The furtive glances, the angry looks, the awful _words—_ and suddenly it all makes sense. _All_ of it. She feels like an _idiot_ for not having figured it out sooner. 

It had just been so _obvious_ to her— knowing Finn for as long as she has. Knowing just how _much_ he would never want her that way. But to the outside world— to someone who had _no idea—_

Yes. She should have seen it sooner. 

But so should he, she thinks.

She’s looking at the ground now, a war of emotions in her chest fighting for the spotlight all at once. She tries to swallow, but her throat is dry and useless around the lump there. 

She can’t even describe this hurt inside her. Months. Actual _months_ wasted, and Ben—

Ben has been _awful_ to her. For absolutely no reason, it turns out. The things he’s _said_ to her. How those words have made her _feel._

 _Months_ she’s suffered, and for what? Because he couldn’t just fucking say something? Because he made dumbass assumptions based on what he thought he saw? Even _if_ he thought she was with Finn, the way he _treated_ her. When he could have just _talked_ to her. Could have _explained_. 

“Look, Rey,” he's saying. “I care about you, but I can’t—”

“Ben.” It’s a whisper, from a voice that doesn’t even sound like herself. “Don’t.”

“What?”

“Just don’t.”

She slowly reaches into her backpack, pulling out every note he’s ever left her and taking one last look at them in her hands. 

She’d thought the person who’d left these _had_ to care about her. Now she’s not so sure.

She reaches for Ben’s hand, and he allows her to hold it, even as she’s trying ignore the way the warmth it makes her feel. 

She places the notes in his open palm, urging his fingers to curl around them as she slowly unpries her fingers from his. 

“I’m sorry, Ben.” She won’t look at him. She _can’t._ “For everything.”

She feels his eyes on her as she moves to make her way around him, and then again on her back as she walks away. But he doesn’t come after her, and honestly, it’s not even a surprise now.

She’d thought she felt pain when she believed there was a _reason_ for his actions— but to find out there’s no reason at all?

That’s an ache that she can’t even describe. 

Rey walks to the parking lot, bypassing Finn’s car completely and moving out of the gates towards the bus stop. She waits for the next bus to pull up, climbing on board and taking a seat as she heads for home. She pulls out her cheap little MP3 player, shoving the earbuds into her ears and blasting My Chemical Romance’s _I’m Not Okay_ as loud as she can. When the bus starts to move, she finally lets herself cry in earnest. 

She wonders if she sheds enough tears— if maybe there won’t be any more hurt left in her. 

Maybe then she’ll be able to breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crying on the bus to I’m Not Okay is peak high school mood (for me) 😂 next chapter is a Ben POV!
> 
> Note Lyrics: 
> 
> All Over You by spill canvas
> 
> In my daydreams, in my sleep  
> Infatuation turning into disease  
> You could cure me see all you have to do now is  
> Please try give it your best shot and try  
> All I'm asking for is love  
> But you never seem to have enough
> 
> Niki FM 
> 
> I'm outside of your window with my radio  
> You are the only station  
> You play the song I know  
> You are the song I know


	7. A Royal Fucking Prick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m as terrible at communicating as these two dummies I swear. I said this is a Ben POV, but it’s only HALF a Ben POV. The other half is Rey — but I felt it was more impactful for us to be in her head when Ben explains himself. (Cut me some slack I’ve never pre-written before and I forgot. 😂) If it helps, the smut (that IS coming) is in Ben’s POV because that’s my favorite. 🤤

It might almost seem strange for him to be walking around in the cold on Christmas Eve— but honestly, at this point, he isn’t even surprised. 

His mom left hours ago to hit up some fancy party with her country club friends, and his dad called this morning to say he couldn’t catch a flight in. 

Yeah, right.

The _one_ Christmas miracle is that his mother has miraculously run out of booze— and now Ben is forced to tread through the cold to the only place in town that he’s been able to use his fake ID without any problems. 

He tries not to think about the fact that she hadn’t come back to school before break. Or the way her face looked that day when she found out he’d been leaving her those _stupid_ fucking notes. 

He still can hardly decide why he’d even left them in the first place. 

It had just been so _hard._

Every time he sees her he wants to kiss her. Every time he hears her voice he wants to make her laugh. He goes to sleep thinking about her and he wakes up terrified of when he’ll see her again. 

And the songs. The _songs._

His music has become his enemy. It seems like now they all play for her. 

It had just gotten to a point where it had fucking _hurt_ not to tell her how he felt, and for whatever reason, slipping those notes into her locker had made it hurt just a little bit less. 

And so what if it stung when she thought it had been Doph? He’d been trying to make her think that anyway. For whatever sick reason. Anything to not let her know that he was still so fucking _hung_ up on her. 

Maybe he _should_ have just fucked her. Maybe he’d feel better. Even as he thinks it though— he knows that’s a lie.

He doesn’t want a part of her. 

He wants the whole thing. 

He pulls his coat a little tighter as he moves down the mostly empty sidewalk, trying for the dozenth time that day to push her out of his mind. 

He definitely needs that booze.

He’s surprised at first, when he sees someone he recognizes coming out of the restaurant just ahead. It’s followed by terror when he thinks that _she_ will follow out after Finn— and then ends with more surprise when it’s another guy instead. 

Ben recognizes the other guy somehow. He can’t be sure where, but he’s almost _certain_ he’s seen this guy before. 

He doesn’t mean to stare, but there’s just something about them— something he can’t quite put his finger on. 

Then Finn throws an arm around the other guy’s waist, and his head turns, and his chin tilts, and then they’re _kissing,_ and Ben’s mind is spinning a little as he tries to process what he’s seeing.

He doesn’t even realize he’s stomping towards them until Finn is looking up at him in surprise. “Ben?”

“What the fuck are you doing?” He doesn’t meant to shout, but he’s just so _angry_. Angry that he would do this to her. “Why aren’t you with Rey?”

Finn looks torn between anger and confusion. “That’s none of your fucking business, first of all.”

“Does she know you’re out here with some guy while she’s wherever she is?”

Finn’s face scrunches, genuine bewilderment wiping away any lingering anger. “Yes?”

Ben’s mouth falls open. “And she’s okay with that?”

Finn raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. “Yes?”

He hates the sick flutter of hope in his chest. “Did you… did you guys break up?”

Finn and the other guy share a look, and then Finn’s face does this thing as if he’s just realizing something as he turns back to Ben with a pensive expression. “Ben, um… Rey and I… have _never_ been together.”

He feels like he’s been kicked in the gut. “What?”

“I’ve _always_ been with Poe. Since last year. Rey is… like my sister.”

“So, you’re not—”

“Nope,” he cuts in. “Never have been.”

Ben stares at the ground, reeling. “Fuck.”

He hears the other guy, _Poe,_ who he now realizes he saw at the Halloween party, whisper, “What’s happening right now?”

Finn sighs. “Ben here is realizing he’s been a _royal_ fucking prick.”

It’s a little hard to breathe, but Ben manages a, “Where is she?”

“Yeah,” Finn snorts. “I’m not fucking telling you that. She’s been fucking _miserable_ because of you.”

“ _Please.”_ Ben has never really begged before, but he’s willing to do it now. “You have to tell me where she is. I have to tell her that I— that I didn’t—”

“Look, Ben, I’m not going to let you ruin her birthday with this—”

Ben sucks in a breath, remembering. He knows where she is. He knows _exactly_ where she is. He doesn’t let Finn finish, turning on his heel and practically _sprinting_ in the other direction, even as Finn shouts obscenities behind him. 

He fucked up. He knows that now. He fucked up _hard—_ and he has to tell her. He has to tell her he’s _sorry._

He just hopes it isn’t too late. 

* * *

She almost didn't come. 

There isn’t much she’s _wanted_ to do this last week— but when Finn had begged her to come along on his date with Poe, she couldn’t bring herself to be their third wheel who would just bum everyone out anyway. The movies had just seemed like a good excuse. Finn never questions her strange habit. He seems to recognize that she needs it. 

So here she is, at the same place she _always_ spends her birthday. 

She’s never been quite so depressed about it before. 

Will Smith is on the screen, trying to flirt with a mannequin at a video store, but Rey’s mind is miles away. Where it’s been since that day she left school early. 

She wonders how she’ll ever go back.

When Will begins to shout at a mannequin in the middle of the street— Rey finds herself distracted by some whispered voices down at the end of the row. Some commotion in the dark as a large figure tries to squeeze past the people sitting there. 

When someone plops down beside her, she almost stops breathing.

“Ben?”

He looks out of breath as well. His hair is windswept, and even by the dim light of the screen she can tell his cheeks are flushed. “Hey.”

She tries to keep her voice to a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to— _fuck.”_ He takes a deep breath, still winded. “I had to find you.”

She can’t help but be bewildered by the whole thing, too confused to even dredge up any anger. “How did you know where to find me?”

“It’s your birthday,” he whispers. “And there’s only two theaters on this side of town, and you weren’t at the other one— but I remembered the book you were reading that day in the library and what you said and when I saw this was playing I just— I just _knew—”_ He blows out a breath. “I just had to find you.”

She’s more than stunned by this admission, tripping over the fact that he apparently checked _two_ theaters just to find her, but her brain latches onto a different detail. “You remember what I was reading?”

He lets out a soft laugh, like an expulsion of air. “Rey… I remember _everything.”_

She stares after him for a long time, the movie forgotten, just watching the lights from the screen move over his face. She swallows, looking down into her lap then. “I don’t know why you’re here.”

“Because I’m a fucking idiot.”

She doesn’t know if she can do this right now. “Ben, I think you should go.”

“Rey, no—” His voice is getting a little louder now. “—just listen—”

“ _Shh.”_

Ben turns to look for the person behind them who’s obviously tired of their conversation. “Oh, fuck off!”

Rey shuts her eyes, sighing softly. “Ben.”

“Fuck,” he growls quietly. He holds out a hand. “Come with me. Please?”

“Ben…”

“ _Please,_ Rey? If you still hate me after then I’ll never bother you again, but just— _please.”_

She works at her bottom lip with her teeth, taking in the desperate look in his eyes and his outstretched hand and a large part of her wants to tell him no, because she just doesn’t have it in her to _hurt_ anymore, but a much smaller part screams _yes,_ and when it comes to Ben… this is always the part of her that wins out.

She slips her fingers into his, and even though they’re still cold, she feels so _warm_ because he smiles like just _this_ is a victory, and he tugs her to her feet to pull her out of the aisle and out the theater doors. 

He doesn’t even hesitate when they’re alone in the hallway, pulling her to his chest and wrapping his arms around her and she’s too stunned to even protest and he _smells_ so good with her nose pressed to his shirt and for a moment she just allows him to _hold her_ because it’s all she’s wanted for _months._

But then she remembers. 

She untangles from him, wrapping her arms around herself to seek some sort of protection from the urge to lean into him again. 

She clears her throat. “Okay. Talk.”

“I fucked up, Rey,” he stammers. “I fucked up _so bad.”_

She furrows her brow, unable to disagree but curious as to why he’s suddenly had a change of heart. 

Then it hits her.

“How did you find out?”

He looks embarrassed. “I saw them. Together.”

“I see.”

“Rey.” His expression is pained. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I thought—”

“I know what you thought,” she says evenly. “I’m just not sure if it excuses the way you treated me.”

His mouth forms a tight line. “I’m sorry, I was… _awful.”_

“You were.”

“Why didn’t you correct me? That day at school?”

She glances at the floor. “I guess I was just… tired. Finding out that all those days I was hurting was over _nothing_ practically — it was a lot, Ben. It was a fucking lot to process. I didn’t even know how I felt… much less how to put it into words.”

“Goddamnit, Rey,” he grits out. “I feel like… a fucking _idiot.”_

She’s not really sure if she can argue with that, but she isn’t sure she’s entirely blameless either. She still thinks she’s just so _tired._ “I get it Ben. You didn’t know.”

“I just…” He blows out a breath. “This summer. That night with you… that was… something. To me. It meant… a lot.”

“It did to me too.” She nods dolefully. “Then you never texted me.”

“That’s the _thing.”_ He’s waving his hands vehemently now, like he’s anxious. “I did. I fucking _did._ It was the wrong number. I thought— I thought I just fucked up and heard you wrong. I was so buzzed and I— well. Yeah.”

“So you texted me.”

“I _swear_ , Rey. I was fucking pissed as hell. I even lurked around some hang out spots in town for those three weeks hoping to run into you. I was losing my goddamn mind by the time school started. Just _hoping_ by some dumbfuck stroke of luck you’d be there.”

She feels her heart give a funny little flop in her chest. “You did?”

“I _swear.”_

“But then when you saw me…”

His expression turns sad. “Can you imagine how I felt? Seeing you hugging some other guy? Him kissing your fucking hair? I thought— suddenly I thought—” He takes a deep breath. “I thought you gave me the wrong number on purpose.”

“But I _didn’t—”_

“I know. I _know_ that now. But then… I was so angry. So fucking _wrecked._ I’d never felt like I did. Not with anyone else. I’ve _never_ felt that. Then it was like… like watching it all sink right in front of me. It fucking _hurt_ , Rey.”

She considers this. Tries to put herself in his shoes. Tries to imagine the situation in _reverse—_ and yes. She can almost see where he’s coming from. Mostly.

“But then after. When I approached you. You could have talked to me.”

He sighs. “I’d spent the last four days moping in my room. Telling myself you’d just gotten fucked up and didn’t want to hurt your boyfriend or me and that I just needed to get over it. I could almost understand. Even if I hated it.”

“But?”

He glances at his shoes. “But then you plop down at our table and you just kept _looking_ at me. Like _I_ did something. It was driving me crazy. I had to get out of there. But you _followed me._ Acted like _I_ was the one in the wrong. I got so fucking _angry._ I was still fucking _hurting_ and you acted like it was _my fault.”_

She wrinkles her brow. “You left your first note that day.”

“I did.” He clears his throat. “Watching you chat with Mitaka. So _normal_ and _friendly._ Fuck. I almost wished I could have just been less of a dick. Maybe I could have at least been _friends_ with you. I was a mess. I just… I was still crazy about you. I just needed to tell you. Even if it didn’t come directly from me. It made it a little easier. Then I just… couldn’t stop.”

“Wow.” She’s not even sure if she can process all this information, but Ben just keeps _going_. Like it's eating at him. Like he needs to get it out.

“Then you were just _everywhere_ . It felt like no matter _what_ I did you were just _there._ Like the universe was punishing me. It didn’t feel _fair._ Then at the party… I saw you dancing with Finn… but then you came outside and you _kissed_ me— and it felt _so good_ but I…” He glances up at her. “It felt then like you just wanted me for one thing. It made me feel… dirty. It made me feel fucking _awful._ Like I wasn’t good enough to have all of you. God, Rey. I’ve _never_ felt like that before. I said such awful fucking things—” 

“Yes,” Rey says quietly. “You did.”

He reaches for her hand tentatively, and she lets him take it, surprising them both. He stares down at it for a moment, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “And I’m still so sorry. Even before I knew, I regretted it the _very_ next day. I was fucked up and angry and just— _fuck_. I’m still _so_ sorry.”

She watches the slow movement of his thumb for several moments, thinking. She still hasn’t pulled her hand away when she finally speaks again. 

“I don’t really know how I’m supposed to feel. It’s just been… a shitty few months.”

“I know,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“What now, Ben?” She looks up to catch his gaze, holding it. “What are we supposed to do now?”

“Well…” His fingers curl around hers a little tighter, holding her hand in both of his larger ones and staring down at it. “There’s a few options.”

She finds herself holding her breath. “Like?”

“I could leave. Let you go back into the movie, and if you don’t want to see me again, then that will be that.”

She doesn’t know if she can do that. A part of her still thinks she _should—_ but she doesn’t know if she’s physically _able_ to.

“What else is there?”

He still doesn’t meet her eyes, almost as if he’s _afraid_ too— and his voice is so quiet now. “You can come with me, and I’ll throw you a real birthday.”

“A real birthday?”

He nods. “Or fuck, I could just go back into the movie with you. I don’t care. If you want me, then I’m here.” He grabs for her other hand, until both are enclosed in his and he’s pulling her a little closer now and his eyes still have that _desperate_ look about them and she feels it. She definitely feels it too. “The point is, no pretending, I came here for _you.”_

She’s going to cry again. Why is Ben _always_ making her cry? She finds she doesn’t mind so much this time. 

“It’s whatever you want, Rey,” he tells her softly. “You just have to decide.”

She feels every second like the beating of her heart, and he’s waiting for an answer, and she feels it on the tip of her tongue.

She finds giving him one isn’t nearly as hard as she thought it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, but I did warn you that I split a chapter, and it resulted in a cliffhanger so you can’t yell. I don’t make the rules sorry. 
> 
> (But come on you know what she says!)


	8. It’s Just Us Now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all deserve this, y’all really do. I hope this makes up for all the angst a little! 🖤

She’s still just watching him. 

He’s never been this nervous in his entire life. 

He sets down the little icing tube, leaning back to admire his handiwork. He frowns, thinking it’ll have to do.

“Now, I don’t know what flavor this is, but it’s the only one they had at the store that wasn’t Christmasy.”

“I’m sure it’s fine, Ben.”

He lifts the little round cake, turning to set it on the counter in front of her.

“Ta-da.”

She just stares at it, and he worries it’s not right. 

“I’m sorry it’s so plain,” he offers. “I should have went to another store, but I—”

“It’s perfect.”

He studies her face. “It is?”

Her voice is impossibly soft when she answers, “Yeah. It is.”

“Good.” He blows out a breath in relief. “Do you want me to cut it?”

“And mess up your pretty writing?”

She’s grinning now. That’s a good sign right? He’s so fucking nervous that he’ll fuck this up somehow. He still can’t believe she’s _here_. In his _house._

It might be the first time in years he hasn’t spent this stupid holiday alone.

“It’s not my best,” he says finally, returning her smile.

“Your sloppy cake writing is still better than my normal handwriting on my best day.”

She’s still smiling, and it makes his chest hurt, but in a good way. “Here, let me get you a piece.”

He slices up two fat pieces, sliding one over to her on a plate before digging into his own. “It’s just white cake,” he murmurs around his fork. “How boring.”

“It’s perfect,” she repeats.

“You’re just saying that.”

“It’s the first birthday cake I’ve had in years, Ben. Trust me.” She takes a large bite. “It’s perfect.”

“In years?”

She looks back up from her plate. “Yeah. My last foster parent, Plutt, he was a dick, remember? Definitely not the cake type. The last cake I had was a sloppy little sheet cake Finn made me back in middle school. It looked awful— but I loved it.”

He feels a tightness in his chest, that same sensation to take away her shitty childhood flooding him just like it did that first night. 

“If it’s any consolation,” he offers, “my mother wasn’t much of the birthday cake type either.”

She frowns. “When’s your birthday?”

“It’s not important.”

“What?” She laughs a little. “Now I’m curious. When is your birthday, Ben?”

His jaw works as he looks down into his plate, mumbling, “February 14th.”

“Oh my God.” She bursts out laughing. “Valentine’s Day?”

He sighs wearily. “I fucking hate it.”

“That’s amazing,” she says, still laughing. “I’ll make you a birthday cake on Valentine’s.”

It’s crazy how just a simple sentence can make his heart race. Just the _insinuation_ that she’ll still be around makes him a little giddy. 

_Do not_ _fuck this up again, Solo._

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

She glances out the window. “I don’t know… it’s started to snow. If it keeps up the buses will stop.”

“I’ll make sure you get home,” he promises. “Or… I mean… you could just stay.”

She gives him a curious look, “Stay?”

He feels his face heat. “Not like that! I just meant— like, that way you don’t have to leave and I— I just thought maybe it would be cool to spend Christmas together. I’ll sleep on the floor. I _promise_ I didn’t meant _that—_ ”

She smiles softly. “I’ll stay.”

His heart begins to beat so hard he can practically _hear_ it. God, he’s _never_ been this gone for someone before. It’s _terrifying_. 

“Okay,” he answers quietly. 

They eat their cake in relative silence, and Ben tries not to think about the fact that she might be in his bed in a few hours. Even if he’s on the floor— that knowledge alone has his stomach doing something funny. 

Not to mention… other places.

 _Do_ not _fuck this up again, Solo._

* * *

She’s trying not to seem nervous.

Even if her stomach keeps flipping and her heart keeps racing. 

She runs her hands under the cool water of his bathroom sink— splashing another handful onto her already-clean face for good measure. She pays it dry with the towel hanging just beside, and she presses a hand to her stomach in an attempt to settle it. 

_It’s just sleeping,_ she tells herself. 

She isn’t even sure why she’s so anxious about this. She’s done this before, she’s done _more_ than this— but it feels different. It’s never felt like quite so _much_ before. 

Everything is different with Ben.

 _Just sleeping,_ she reminds herself. 

But the problem is she isn’t sure if that’s all she wants. 

She spent two hours on his couch, curled into him, surrounded by his warmth and his cologne and _him_ and he hadn’t even _kissed_ her but she’s unsettled all the same.

She takes one last steadying breath, turning to examine herself in the mirror, his Drop Dead Gorgeous shirt hanging past her thighs and yet still showing a good bit of her legs.

She leaves the bathroom before she loses her nerve.

He looks up from the blanket where he’s sitting on the floor, his eyes going immediately to her bare legs before he flicks them back up to her eyes just as fast. 

“All set?”

She’s trying not to focus on the fact that he’s only in his boxers and a tank top.

“Uh huh,” she manages, moving to his bed. 

It’s big, _impossibly big—_ but then again, so is Ben. She crawls under the covers to tuck herself in, reaching to turn out the light as she pulls the covers up to her chest. She hears him situating on the floor, and she stares up at the ceiling as she tries to gather the courage to say what she wants to say.

“Ben?”

“Yeah?”

“Um… your bed is huge.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Yeah?” 

He’s going to make her spell it out. “You could… sleep up here. If you wanted.”

Several more beats of silence before an impossibly soft, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she manages. “I’m sure.”

She hears a rustling of blankets, then there’s a dip on the other side of the bed and he’s just _there—_ lying on his back nearly six inches away from her. 

That won’t do.

She wrestles with the urge for several moments, and then she’s shuffling across the space between them and he lifts his arm to allow her to settle under it.

“Is this okay?”

She feels him suck in a breath. “Yes.”

“Okay.” 

She lets her hand settle over his stomach, unable to help the way she enjoys the firmness there. For a little while she’s content to just feel the way it moves as he breathes. 

But eventually her heart begins to pound a little faster, and she can’t help the way she squirms because he’s so _warm_ and _big_ and they’re in his _bed_ and maybe if she just—

But he catches her hand when it drifts lower, and even when she feels the sting of rejection he’s turning to his side and bringing that same hand to his lips, brushing a kiss over her knuckles.

“Rey—”

“I’m sorry,” she cuts in dejectedly. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s not that I don’t want to.”

“It’s not?”

He pulls her closer until she’s tucked against his chest and his body is curled around hers and his lips are at her hair. “I don’t want you to think that’s why you’re here. I don’t want you to think that’s _all_ I want.”

“But you _do_ want—?”

“You have… _no_ idea.”

This soothes her vanity a little. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She feels his lips at her forehead, lingering. “I’m just still a little in shock that you’re here. I’m still _terrified_ I’m going to fuck this up, and I’ve wanted to hold you like this for _so fucking long,_ and I just—” He breathes in deep as he buries his face in her hair. “I just want to stay like this. For now.”

Despite it all she finds herself smiling into his chest. She curls her fingers at his side, burrowing into his warmth a little deeper. “Okay.”

And it is. It’s absolutely is okay.

It might be the first time anyone’s ever just held her like this. She could get used to it. 

It’s quiet for a few moments, but then a thought strikes Rey. “What about your mom?”

“Hm?”

“What if she comes home? Will she be mad I’m here?”

He shakes his head. “She’ll end up drunk in someone’s guest room. I doubt I see her until at least tomorrow night. If then. I locked the door just in case.”

She can’t help but still feel uneasy about it, and Ben must sense this.

“It’s just us now,” he assures her. “I promise. You can sleep, Rey.”

His hand smooths up and down her spine, and his breath stirs the little flyaways of her hair— and it’s the most peaceful she’s ever felt. She lets his warmth seep into her, closing her eyes and letting that creeping blanket of sleep settle over her— and she does. Sleep, that is.

She sleeps better than she has in a long time.

* * *

He forgets that she’s here at first. 

When he opens his eyes to chestnut curls with a hint of blue burrowed into his chest— at first he thinks he must be dreaming. 

But then he feels the soft rise and fall of her chest against his, hears the little sounds she makes with each sleepy exhale. 

_She’s really here._

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fall asleep again without her.

She’s kicked the blankets off them at some point in the night— consequently entwining her legs with him for subsequent warmth— and he can feel every part of her pressed against every part of him and he’s _praying_ he doesn’t ruin it with some unwanted bout of morning wood.

It had been hard enough last night— telling her no when she was blatantly offering. When her fingers had brushed against the waistband of his boxers— he’d just about lost it. 

But he wants a thousand nights just like this one— and he won’t let the start of them be cheapened by some quick lay where she might wake up doubting it all. 

He can be patient. 

She stirs, making more of these little sounds that threaten to drive him crazy— and then her head lifts up and her hair sticks out at all ends, wild from sleep— and she’s _perfect_ like this.

“Merry Christmas,” she murmurs.

“It’s _absolutely_ already the best Christmas I’ve ever had.” He brushes one wild curl away from her face, letting his thumb rub against the freckled expanse of her cheek. “You look different without the liner.”

She laughs softly. “So do you.”

He can’t help but chuckle in return. “You’re still prettier, I think.”

She blinks at him sleepily, and then her face splits into a grin, and how can he _not_ kiss her? He’s only wanted to since the minute he got her here.

It’s slow at first, tentative, like she’s worried about how bright it is or morning breath or whatever— but Ben doesn’t care about any of that. 

He pulls her a little tighter, closing his eyes as she opens her mouth for him, and it’s perfect. It’s fucking _perfect._

She looks a little dazed when she pulls away, mirroring exactly how he feels. 

But then her eyes go a little darker, and her fingers tease at the bit of bare skin just at the edge of his tank top. 

“Rey.”

“I’m not fragile, Ben.” 

“I know, but—”

“ _Ben_. I don’t want to sound completely lame here… but you’ve done more for me in twelve hours than most people have done for me in their entire lives. I’ve spent _five fucking months_ thinking about you. I’m not wearing _pants._ I promise you— you’re not taking advantage of me here.”

He stares at her for a moment, and she curls her fingers at his side as she pushes up a bit to press her lips to his jaw. He closes his eyes— breathing deep as she pushes her hand underneath his shirt. 

Her fingers trail over his spine— moving over the ridges there as they creep upward. He lets his hand fall over her hip, trying his best not to groan as she tilts further against him, pressing into the growing situation that is occuring in his boxers.

Her mouth finds his, and he _does_ groan when her tongue traces over the little studs just under his lip. She’s done this before, and it drove him just as crazy then. Now though, now that he’s sober and fully aware that nothing is between them but their own fucking clothes— it drives him positively _insane._

His fingers curl over her ass as his other hand finds its way into her hair. She’s sucking at his lower lip as her hand presses into the shape of his dick, and her fingers flex to hold him through the thin fabric. 

He hisses through his teeth— but her tongue is still toying with his piercing, making some soft sound in the back of her throat as he rolls her to her back. 

She’s so fucking small, pressed underneath him like this. It makes him want to pin her there all day. It makes him want to do _a lot_ of things. 

Her fingers tug at his tank top, pulling it over his head as her hands instantly smooth over his abdomen and up his chest. 

He ducks to press his lips to her throat— slow at first, but sucking at her skin a little harder to pull more of the breathy sounds she’s making. She outright moans when he rolls his hips against hers, his dick slotting there as he slides against the thin cotton of her underwear. 

“Rey,” he grits out. “Can I— can I see you?”

His hands push up the hem of his t-shirt (just the thought of her _in_ his t-shirt is enough to heat his blood), but it’s slow, searching— waiting for her to say it’s okay.

She pulls away, biting her lip— but she’s nodding, and he doesn’t waste any time creeping his shirt up and over her head to throw it to the floor. 

He holds his breath as he hovers over her— pushing up on his hands and drinking her in. Her shoulders are dusted with freckles that creep over her collarbone, her chest, her pert little tits that end in rosy nipples and make his mouth water.

“ _Fuck,_ Rey.” 

He’s never felt like this. Sex has always been something quick and hurried and _impersonal_ but with her, with _Rey—_ he wants to know every part of her. He wants her to _feel_ good. It’s important. He wants all her sounds and her reactions and _everything._

She watches as he ducks his head. As he wraps his lips around her nipple. He closes his eyes, letting his tongue circle it lazily as he gauges her reaction. 

It doesn’t take him long to learn she likes it soft, but she likes it _harder_ even more. She doesn’t shy away when he uses a bit of teeth— gasping for breath instead and tangling her fingers in his hair. 

She pulls him to her mouth as her thumbs tease at the gauges in his ears, and it jolts some hot pleasure straight to his dick that he’s currently rubbing against her thigh restlessly. 

He’s just so fucking _hard_ for her. 

“Rey,” he manages breathily, but she’s moved so that her _tongue_ traces one gauged ear instead, and he nearly forgets his fucking _name._ “ _Rey.”_ At least he remembers _hers._ “I don’t— _ah._ I don’t have a condom.”

She’s shifting her hips anxiously, and he can’t resist letting his fingers skirt over her belly to press lower, his hand cupping her between her legs. He can _feel_ the wet patch there, and even as he tells her why they _can’t—_ all he can think about is getting inside her.

“I could— _fuck.”_ Her teeth at his ear are causing a wet patch of his own against his boxers. “I could touch you. Can I touch you?”

“No,” she breathes against his ear. “I want you.”

“But I don’t have—”

Her tongue traces the shell of his ear, and he’s nearly a goner; he could come just like this. “Just don’t come inside,” she murmurs. “I want to feel you.”

He groans, pressing his fingers into the cotton just over her entrance and feeling the way they soak further. He hooks a finger into the edge of her underwear, pulling it to the side to let a finger sink inside. 

Her head falls back against the pillow, her mouth parting softly as he eases his finger in and out of her. “Can I make you come first? Let me make you come.” He adds a second finger, and she winces a little. “You’re so _small_ , Rey.”

“Make me come,” she says airily, her eyes fluttering. “I want you to.”

He lets his fingers slip out of her to reach for her underwear, tugging them down her hips and just the _sight_ of her slick and wet down here threatens to ruin him. He has an urge to put his mouth on her— but he doesn’t think he can make it that long. 

He watches as her tight little hole swallows his fingers this time, and he presses into her greedily now. His thumb finds the swollen bud of her clit, and for a moment he just watches what he’s doing to her. For a moment he props on one hand and just _stares._

But she makes some sound that makes his dick throb, and he wants to be _inside_ her but he wants her to _feel_ just as good. He leans over to suck at her nipple, pumping his fingers into her as his thumb moves in quick circles at her clit. 

He can feel the way her tight walls start to relax around his fingers, and he knows soon she’ll be ready for him. He can almost feel the heat of her wrapped around him already, and he has to prop on an elbow to squeeze the base of his dick through his boxers just to stave off the urge to come there. 

The pads of his fingers stroke at her inner walls, and her breath catches when he finds some spongy spot inside that makes her back arch and her eyes shut tight. 

“ _Right there.”_

It’s a fucking mistake, one that might possibly cause him to shoot off far earlier than he intended, but she’s _so close_ and he wants to _so bad_ and it’s barely even a conscious choice he’s making as his lips brush over her belly and under her navel. 

It’s an awkward angle, the way his body is curled over her— but all he cares about is the strangled sound in her throat as he licks at her clit. He grinds his fingers deep, wrapping his lips around the tight little nub and sucking it into his mouth as deep as he’s able. 

He hears the little _pops_ of her toes first, feels her fingers in his hair, sees the way her back arches— but then it’s an all-over trembling as she jerks against his tongue and she gets so much _wetter_ and it’s all over his _hand_ but he just sucks at her a little _harder._

“ _Fuckfuckfuck.”_

Profanity has never sounded so sweet to him.

He doesn’t really allow her to come down from it, taking only a second to suck the remnant of her off his fingers— but then he’s crawling over her and his tongue is in her mouth and her hands are pushing his boxers down before they curl around his dick to _stroke_ and he needs to be _inside_ her.

He needs it right now.

He pulls at her hips as he nudges between them— spreading her legs wide as he guides himself inside. 

_Fuck._

She’s tight and warm and _so fucking wet_ and he’s only inside her a _little bit._

He pushes forward a little more— remembering that he can’t come here. That he’s got to hold out. His eyes flutter as he slips deeper, her insides suctioning to him as a whimper escapes her. 

He leans over to kiss her as he pushes in the rest of the way, feeling her legs wrap around him as her tongue teases at his piercing again and he’s so fucking _gone_ that he hardly registers the way he starts to move inside her. 

But he is. _So much._

He pulls out just to push back in. He rolls into her at a steady pace— every withdrawal coming faster as every entry comes _harder._ She throws her arms around his neck, holding him to her as their kisses turn messy. Nothing but tongue and teeth and swallowed sounds.

His hands wander before he feels her nails digging into his hips, and he groans with it, relishing the bite there as he slams into her with everything he has. 

He feels it building— knowing she’s going to make him come harder than he ever has— and he’s already regretting that he can’t do it inside her. 

“Not inside,” she reminds him hoarsely.

He grits his teeth, closing his eyes as her slick channel grows _tighter_ and _wetter._ He thinks maybe she’s close too. 

“On you,” he rasps. “Can I?”

She nods frantically as her lips find his throat, licking a path over his pulse and onwards to his ear and his thrusts are erratic now— a staggered tempo as he struggles to hold on to just a few more seconds.

But he grinds against her just the right way, and she’s shaking all over again, her cunt gripping him _so fucking tight_ that he might lose his mind. He huffs against her neck as his head lolls forward, and he’s going to come. He’s _absolutely_ going to come.

He pulls out just as he feels it happening, giving his dick a tight stroke as his cum paints her from her navel to her ribs. 

They’re still as they try to catch their breath— the only movement the slight shifting of Ben’s hips as he rubs himself lightly against her stomach that is covered with his fluids. He kisses her languidly as he shudders with it, strangely enjoying the fact that she’s covered in him. Not so strangely enjoying every single thing that just happened in this bed. 

He’s still kissing her when he reaches for his shirt to clean her up, wiping up any remnants of himself and feeling a strange disappointment that he can’t let it sit there longer. 

Not something he’s used to for sure.

They lie together after in a sweaty tangle of limbs— her cheek at his chest and his fingers in her hair, and part of him is thinking about fucking her again, but oddly, _most_ of him is content to just lay like this. 

It’s her that breaks the silence first. “So, what happens when we go back to school?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know,” she says quietly. “With us. What happens?”

“I can fucking tell you that I’m going to make sure _no one_ at that school thinks you’re dating Finn.”

She laughs softly. “Gonna tattoo my forehead?”

“I don’t think I can get away with that,” he sighs. “But I can _really_ skirt the lines of our school’s PDA policy.”

“Mm,” she hums, kissing the skin over his heart. “What do you think you can do?”

“Oh,” he says seriously. “I’m going to smother you. Hand holding, gross kissing, hanging out at your locker— you’d better get ready.”

He can’t see her smile with the way she lays her cheek back over his chest, but he swears he can _feel_ it. “I think I’d be okay with that.”

“Good.” He breathes deep, closing his eyes. “Wasn’t really giving you a choice.”

“I guess that’s one way to start a rumor.”

“And that’s not all. More importantly… _”_

She moves to prop her chin on his chest as he trails off, giving him a curious look. “More importantly, what?”

He stares past her in thought, looking serious. “More _importantly—_ I gotta get Mitaka to fucking switch with me.”

She bursts out laughing. “Wow. You’re really going to go hard.”

“That’s what she said,” he grins.

She’s still grinning as she pushes up to kiss him, and he wraps his arms around her to pull her close. As close as she can possibly be. Right where he wants her. 

He won’t ever let her go again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only an (incredibly fluffy) epilogue left, 😭 I’m sorry to see them go! I’ll miss these two. 😭


	9. I <3 You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I say this a lot, but I’m going to miss these two so much. 😭 They deserve this fluffy ass ending, and so do all of you! 🖤

“God. It’s so fucking _hot.”_

She’s almost regretting her all-black HIM shirt — pulling at the dark fabric to try and fan her overheated skin beneath. 

Ben pushes his hair out of his face, the sweat-drenched strands more than likely mirroring her own. “You say that like you aren’t used to it. It was like this last summer.”

“That was a whole year ago. Is my eyeliner a fucking mess?”

He tilts her chin up, furrowing his brow as he assesses. “Like a raccoon.” She scowls, and he leans to kiss her forehead. “But a very cute raccoon.”

She grins as she reaches to wipe under his eye with her thumb. She pulls it away, stained black, cocking an eyebrow. “You aren’t much better off.”

“I think it makes me look edgy.”

“You think _everything_ makes you look edgy.”

He hooks a finger into the belt loop of her cut-offs, tugging her closer. “You don’t think so?”

“Mm.” She bites at her bottom lip. “Maybe.”

She leans into him as he ducks to kiss her, closing her eyes as his hand curls possessively around her hip. 

Warped is _definitely_ a little better this summer. 

Ben entwines his fingers with hers when he breaks away, pulling her away from the stage area where 3OH!3 have just finished playing. 

He cranes his neck as he scans the crown. “Where is everyone else?”

Rey shrugs. “I think Poe and Finn are checking out Alesana.”

“I know Rose and Hux are still at We The Kings, but I have now idea where Gwen and Mitaka ran off to.”

She can’t help but grin. “I still can’t get over them.”

“Yeah,” he snorts. “Who fucking knew that being _Gwen’s_ lab partner would be the incentive I needed to get Doph to switch me.”

“I think they’re cute together.”

“They’re something,” he laughs. He tugs at her hand a little harder. “Come on, let's take a break before As I Lay Dying starts.”

Rey laughs as she follows behind him. “Not too late to catch Katy Perry instead.”

“God,” he guffaws. “Poor Hux. Rose has really got him whipped.”

“You wouldn’t skip As I Lay Dying for me if I wanted to see Katy?”

“Fuck, no. I watched your little electronic bebop nonsense. You owe me this.”

She rolls her eyes. “You _know_ you like some of their shit.”

“One song, Rey. They have _one_ good song.”

“Keep telling yourself that lie. I still love you.”

He leads her to sit under a wide tree, plopping on the grass and patting the space next to him. “Look familiar?”

“The other one was bigger,” she quips as she sits beside him.

“That’s what she said.”

“God, you have _got_ to let that go.”

“That’s what—”

“Now you’re just being an ass.” She groans, shoving him before she points at his shirt. “You’re wearing the same shirt though.”

He glances down at his Escape The Fate tee — flicking his eyes back up to hers with a grin. “It’s lucky. Last time I wore this to Warped I ended up making out with a hot girl.”

She gives him a playful eye roll — but he’s already rifling through his little beat up altoids tin, and she can’t help but laugh. “You’re really trying to recreate the moment, aren’t you.”

“We’re celebrating.”

“What exactly are we celebrating?”

“We survived high school.”

She laughs. “Graduation was nearly two months ago.”

“Then we're celebrating going to college.”

“You have a 3.8 GPA,” she snorts. “That was never _not_ happening.” She eyes the little tin amusedly, adding, “Although I’m still not entirely sure how you pulled that off.”

“Whatever,” he huffs. “Then we're celebrating all the unmonitored sex we’re going to have in your dorm.”

She bursts out laughing, shaking her head and letting it fall back against the bark of the tree. She only lifts it back up when she hears him cursing under his breath, and she peers down at his task to find him struggling a little, 

“Need help?”

“No, I don’t fucking need help. I was doing this long before you came along.”

She grins at his petulant tone. “Don’t be a baby.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, finally managing to roll a somewhat acceptable joint. “See?”

“I’m so proud of you.” 

He rolls his eyes as he brings it to his lips to light it. He takes a long drag, raising his eyebrows a little as he holds it in for a second. She gives him a curious look, but he just holds up his finger in a _wait_ gesture as he exhales the smoke only to breathe it back in through his nostrils. 

He looks so fucking _smug_ about the whole thing that she can’t help but beam back at him. Someone as big and as angry looking as he is shouldn’t be so goddamned adorable.

He’s still grinning when he passes her the joint, but she holds it away from her instead of immediately taking a hit so that she can curl her fingers around his nape to turn his head. She pushes up on her knees to press her lips to his— tasting the smoke on his tongue as she lets hers sweep through his mouth. 

She nearly drops the joint when his arms wrap around her, pulling her into his lap so that he can deepen the kiss, making that little sound in his throat that he makes when he’s turned on that always drives her a little crazy. His fingers tangle in her hair, curling them into the bright red strands underneath. 

“I love you,” she murmurs against his mouth. “This has been a perfect day.”

He grins. “Even without The Used?”

“Didn’t even notice they were gone.”

“That’s a lie,” he laughs, easing her into a more comfortable position over his thighs as she finally takes a hit. “But I love you, too.”

She blows out a stream of smoke. “Fuck them for going on tour.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Na,” she sighs, handing the joint back. “I’m just jealous.” He gives her a coy look, smirking as if he knows a secret, and she cocks an eyebrow. “What?”

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a folded envelope and holding it up for her to see. “I guess I could give you this now.”

She furrows her brow, reaching for it slowly. “What did you do?”

He shrugs. “Just open it.”

She rips open the top, peeking inside and pulling out two tickets for a showing of The Used’s tour with Shinedown in Scranton. “Oh my God. You _didn’t.”_

“I mean, yeah, I kind of did.”

She launches her arms around his neck. “I love you, I love you, _I love you_.” His arms go tight around her, chuckling as she sloppily presses kisses into his cheek. “I will never talk shit about you again.”

His chuckling turns into a belly laugh. “Now that’s _definitely_ a fucking lie.”

“Okay,” she concedes. “True. But it isn’t my fault you don’t like Paramore.”

He just smiles, watching her from the side as she beams down at the tickets. She notices a little scrap of paper sticking out of the envelope still, and she reaches to pull it out as she feels a thick tightness settle in her chest. 

She’s fucking crying again. She doesn’t even hate it anymore that he’s the only one that can make her do this. 

“Thank you,” she says again. “I love you, too.”

She’s still smoothing her thumbs over the tickets excitedly when something catches her eye, and then she looks up to give Ben a confused look. “Is this date right?”

He grins. “Yep.”

“But this is tomorrow!”

“Yep.”

“Scranton is like, seven hours away.”

“I’m aware.” She’s still making a face, and he just shrugs. “That’s why we’re leaving from here. Finn already packed your bag.”

“Oh my God,” she beams. “You fucking sneak!”

“No take backs. You love me.”

She bites at her lip to try and staunch the giddy smile that’s taking over her entire face right now. “I do.”

“That’s a long drive,” she remarks flippantly.

“Mhm.” His mouth turns up in a smirk. “Guess we’ll have to get a hotel.”

She smacks his arm as a laugh tumbles out of her. “This was all a ploy to get me into bed.”

“Listen,” he says seriously. “I love Maz… but I _never_ want to have to sit across from her at the breakfast table while she’s giving me those _don’t violate my daughter_ looks ever again.”

She’s still laughing a little as she shakes her head. “So sly.”

He presses a kiss to her hair. “Are you complaining?”

She considers, thinking about their day and their _year_ and these tickets and his note and just _him._

“No,” she says quietly, snuggling into his chest. “No, I’m really not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for sticking with me! It’s been so fun going down memory lane. 😭🖤

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kylotrashforever)!  
> I made a [Twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/KTF_Reylo), come follow me!
> 
> The phenomenal [raebarbret](https://twitter.com/_RaeBarb_) on twitter made this amazing ending scene for my sweet emo babies. 😭 I don’t deserve it or her but scream about it with me anyway. 
> 
> [I Caught Fire Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/user/1288719735/playlist/766V4LyaZ6RYjTI0y1FriZ?si=if1B5VBmRFOPQ0lBPnkpZw)


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